Unknown Variables
by Purple Karma
Summary: There were people lurking in the background throughout time. Strange people. Enough to be noticed by those around them but not nearly enough to be remembered by the history books. Who were they? Why were they there? What were they doing? But more importantly: How did they get there?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I: The Crimson Ghost

He knew the very moment he laid his eyes on her that she was not a normal woman.

For one instance, no woman he knew was able to take down a garrison of soldiers armed to the teeth as if they were nothing but a bunch of buzzing flies. And like fly's, she swatted them with ease. To say he was impressed would have been an understatement. Most of these men were at least twice her size and carried weapons that weighed about as much as her. Yet it didn't seem to matter to her how big they or their weapons were. Like a scythe through a field of wheat, she mowed down their ranks with little effort. Her quick and precise strikes shattered both metal and bone. Helmets broke, armor was punctured, and limbs were bent in angles he didn't think was possible. Their weapons – large or small – weren't of any use to them as she proved to be too fast to hit. They may as well have been trying to swing at a fired arrow. She didn't just move, she _soared_. Her movements were fluid like water in a winding river yet they hit with the force of a charging bull. None of them stood a chance.

The whole fight – if it could even be called that – lasted no more than a minute. When all was said and done, she sheathed her swords and walked away. Not once did she ever spare a glance at the dozens of highly trained soldiers writing on the ground in agony as if they were messily recruits who had barely survived their first day of training. That was another thing he noticed about her. She didn't kill her opponents. Sure she reduced them to bloody and broken messes on the ground but she _never _killed. Whether they be soldiers, bandits, pirates, or slavers. No matter who they were, she never went for a killing blow. That was one of the few things about her that confused him. Sure, he never killed everyone he fought, but he still made sure to kill those who truly deserved it. But she never did. Soldiers he could understand. They were just doing their jobs. But people like slavers and bandits? They hurt and killed innocent people simply because they _could_. They didn't have any right to live when they so callously robbed people blind and treated them like they were nothing more than garbage.

But she didn't seem to care.

No matter how many evils she saw these people commit, she still never resorted to killing. When it came to slavers, she simply beat them to a bloody pulp before freeing the slaves. Bandits, she just left bleeding on the ground. Not even the dozens of mercenaries that wanted to collect her head for a hefty sum had been killed. Simply left in the same conditions she had given to so many others. Amazingly enough, none of the mercenaries she had beaten had ever tried to come back again for her bounty. And he wasn't exaggerating when he said that her bounty was one of the largest he had ever seen. The fact that these mercenaries – who by all rights were supposed to be some of the most fearless rogue warriors in Greece – weren't willing to fight this young woman even for enough drachmae to have them set for life was honestly more than a little disturbing to him.

Yes, she definitely wasn't a normal woman. Then again, it wasn't like he was the picture perfect representation of normal either. He _did_ kill people with a broken magical spear after all.

However it wasn't simply the way she fought that intrigued him. No, the one thing that made her stand out the most was her hair. It was the color of _**blood**_.

* * *

The first time Alexios saw her was at the Monger's warehouse in Korinthia. He had been on his way to burn the supplies stashed there in order to further loosen the iron grip the madman had around city's throat when he suddenly heard the commotion near the docks where the warehouse was located. He was thoroughly surprised to see various people running and screaming in the opposite direction as the warehouse burned to the ground. From the front entrance came a woman dressed in a leather cloak which covered worn-looking armor. He could also see two swords strapped to her person. Despite the fact that she had just emerged from a burning building, there wasn't a single patch or soot or ash on her person. Her face was set into a sotne cold expression as she walked out of the courtyard, not at all concerned with the numerous bodyguards that were strewn across the ground writhing in agony. The last thing he saw was her bright red hair before she reached out a pulled a hood over her head, effectively hiding her face from sight. He didn't get any further chances to see her as she broke out into a sprint and disappeared from sight behind the large crowd of people that were gathering and watching the commotion with various forms of shock and awe. Some were even cheering. It seemed the woman chose the right time to vanish from sight as the city guards came running towards the burning structure and started pushing the civilians away from the area.

"So that was the _**Crimson Ghost**_," a male voice said behind him. He turned around and was surprised to see a man dressed in standard-issued Spartan armor along with a spear and shield that were both strapped to his back. "I had heard rumors but thought them to be just drunk fantasies from the local taverns." The man had a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched the warehouse collapse in on itself.

"You know her?" he asked in surprise. This was the first time he had ever seen someone like her, and the name _Crimson Ghost_ certainly didn't ring any bells.

"Again, only from rumors spewed from the mouths of drunks." The man waved his hand dismissively. "I choose to believe in things I can see with my own two eyes rather than simple stories. Though from what we just saw it appears her exploits are not just simple rumors after all."

"She must not be that popular then," he gestured towards the burned warehouse. "This is the first I'm hearing of her, and I have a pretty good set of ears."

"It's not surprising. She's called the Crimson _Ghost_ for a reason," he stroked his beard in thought. "Though why she decided to make a public display like this is certainly strange. She tends to avoid causing trouble in heavily populated areas."

"Well I must learn to thank her if I get the opportunity. I was actually on my way to do the exact same thing."

"Such a small world we live in," the man chuckled. "I was as well."

"I am Alexios," the mercenary introduced as he grasped the man's forearm in a tight grip. The man returned it with equal fervor.

"Brasidas," the Spartan replied and Alexios couldn't help but feel like he had just gained a fellow brother in arms.

* * *

He didn't see her again until about a month later when he found her walking out of a nearby bandit camp on the outskirts of Athens, comforting two women who were both weeping into her shoulders.

He could've easily guessed what happened to them just by the look of their torn clothes and bruised bodies. He looked behind the trio and saw the bleeding and broken bodies of the bandits lying motionless on the ground throughout the camp, though he could tell that none of them were dead due to the way their chests were slowly rising and falling. He could feel anger bubble within his core at the sight of their pathetic states. There never seemed to be an end to these damned street rats no matter how many of them he killed. Where in Hades' name were the soldiers? Didn't they know how easy it was for unsuspecting people to be kidnapped this far out of the city? He also couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of resentment for the woman, as well. She should've just killed them where they stood. At least then they wouldn't get the chance to hurt anybody else.

Well if she wasn't willing to do what needed to be done, he certainly would.

He pulled out his spear and made his way inside the camp, fully intending to put them down for good before a hand roughly grabbed his shoulder. He spun around, ready to kill whoever it was that dared to touch him, only to freeze on the spot when he saw that it was the woman. She glared at him from behind her hood as her grip on his shoulder tightened.

"What do you think you're doing?" her voice was low but her tone was as hard and sharp as the swords she carried. However it did nothing to waver him as he swatted the hand off his shoulder and leveled a hard glare of his own right back at her.

"Taking out the trash," he said simply before turning around continued walking towards the nearest bandit. He was only able to make it a foot before his spear was suddenly swiped from his grasp. "Hey!" he yelled in indignation before turning around with his fist cocked back, fully intending to give the woman a piece of his mind until her own fist collided with his face with enough force to break bone and sent him flying back on his ass.

"_MALÁKA!"_ he screamed in pain as he rubbed his now broken nose. He didn't get the chance to get up as a foot suddenly planted itself on his chest and prevented him from moving. He looked up and was momentarily shocked to find his own spear almost an inch away from his face. The woman towered over his downed form, effectively blocking out the sun from his face. He looked up and saw her youthful and pale face scrunched up into a look of barely restrained anger. Her deep brown eyes were even more menacing as she glared down at him. Wisps of her read hair peeked out from her hood and gently swayed in the wind.

"They've already been beaten. Leave. Them. Be." her voice grew harder with each emphasized word as she pushed the spear into his forehead, drawing blood.

"Leave them be?" he replied incredulously, as if such a suggestion was a crime against nature. "Do you think they would've shown those women the same kindness?"

"Killing them would make you no better than them. Especially when they're injured and defenseless."

"_No better?!" _he exclaimed in outrage. He couldn't believe the sheer _nerve _of this woman. "_I'm _not the one who had kidnapped and raped those women!"

"Killing them won't undue their torture," she replied harshly.

"Maybe not," he reluctantly agreed. Though simply letting them live still wasn't right in his mind. "But it will certainly keep them from doing the same to others."

"They won't hurt anybody else. I've already made sure of that," she gestured to their writhing forms as if to make a point.

"You don't know that," he said through gritted teeth. He tried to move but the woman's foot forced him back down.

"Maybe not," she repeated his early statement. "But they will if they know what's good for them."

"It would be a lot easier if you simply killed them." It was always easier when dealing with men such as these. Always was.

"It has nothing to do with easy," she said with bared teeth before pulling the spear away from his face. "It's about doing what's right and that's all you need to know. I don't expect some mercenary like you to understand." Before he had a chance to reply, she removed her foot and grabbed the hem of his armor, lifting him up as if he weighed no more than a feather and proceeded to _throw _him out of the camp and into the nearby dirt road.

Alexios let out a curse and swiftly got up and brushed the dirt off his armor. He swiveled around, fully intending to give her an earful but was interrupted by the sight of his spear flying through the air towards him. He caught it easily but made no move put it away as the woman stalked toward him menacingly. It reminded of a predator stalking towards its prey.

"You're done here," her tone left no room for argument as she stopped a foot away from him. Her glare never once leaving her face as she stood between him and the camp. "Leave at once, and don't even think about killing those men."

"Or what?" he challenged with narrowed eyes. "You'll kill _me_?"

"No." With movement faster than he could react, she was upon him with an arm wrapped around his neck and her head parallel to his. She was so close that he could practically feel her heartbeat through his armor. Small bits of her red hair tickled his skin and he could faintly smell the aroma of oranges on her person. "But you'll wish I had." She whispered into his ear. He suppressed a shiver that threatened to run up his spine.

Then suddenly she was walking away in the opposite direction just as fast as she had appeared in front of him. He didn't follow after her but that didn't stop him from staring at her retreating form. Suddenly without thinking, he blurted out, "Wait!"

She stopped and turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. His face flushed. He honestly didn't know why he was doing this but the damage had already been done. He might as well go along with it. "What's your name?"

Now both of her eyebrows were raised in surprise before they quickly settled back into a cold frown. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I asked nicely?" Obviously that was the wrong thing to say as her glare returned. He chuckled in amusement as he brought up his hands in mock surrender. "Relax, I'm only joking. Look, I'll give you my name. It's Alexios." He walked up to her and held out his hand. She stared at it for a long moment before slowly taking it into her own. The two gave a brief shake before she retracted her arm and continued on down the road. Alexios was slightly disappointed that he didn't get her name but at the same time wasn't that surprised. It wasn't really like he was expecting her to return the courtesy considering how their first meeting just played out.

With an annoyed huff he turned around and made his way in the opposite direction. He didn't get very far as her voice suddenly called out to him.

He turned around. "What?" he asked her, not hearing what just said.

"Erza," she replied looking back at him. "My name is Erza."

"Erza." The name sounded so foreign on his tongue. It didn't sound Greek. He didn't really know what it sounded like. Still, he was glad she at least told him his name. "Thank you, Erza."

"Don't think that this makes us friends. You're still nothing but a lowly mercenary." And with that she went on her way, disappearing out of sight over a nearby hill.

Alexios let out a laugh before he too continued on his way. The woman may have had her priorities screwed up, but she was definitely a hardened warrior worthy of respect, and for some reason that made him want to see her again. And deep down he knew that he would.

* * *

"_I have no idea who that chick was but I definitely like her."_

"_I'll say__. Alannah, have you been able to find any info on her?"_

"_Sorry, Layla. There doesn't seem to be anything in the database about her. No involvement in any known historical events, no known descendants, not even a burial site. And I can't find anything on the name 'Erza' either."_

"_Still, did you guys see the way she kicked ass? She moved like a damn bullet!" _

"_Yes, Victoria, we all saw the memory. But what I want to know is how the hell her hair was so damn red? Did people get their hair dyed in ancient Greece?" _

"_None that we know of. Dye was mostly used for clothing back then. Maybe it was some kind of rare genetic mutation?" _

"_Well whatever it was, it definitely works for her. I mean I'm not gay or anything but that woman was hotter than hot!"_

"_Charming, Alannah. Very charming. Perhaps we should continue while we're still a step ahead of Abstergo?"_

"_Kiyoshi's right, guys. We can figure out who the badass red-head is another time. Victoria, put me back in." _

"_Layla, I really think you should take some time to rest. You know using the animus too much will fry your brain if you're not careful."_

"_I'm perfectly fine, Vic. We don't have any more time to waste while Abstergo's still out there hunting us."_

"_Fine. Prepping memory reboot now."_

"_It is strange though…"_

"_What is, Layla?"_

"_That woman. I think I remember seeing someone else like her back when I was researching Bayek. Not nearly as sword-crazy but definitely just as mysterious."_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II: Desert Green

There were times when Bayek _really _hated the desert.

Which was ironic given the fact that he was both born _and_ raised inthe desert. Not to mention the fact that Egypt was practically 95% desert. The only places where he could seemingly escape the sea of never-ending hellish sands was in city of Alexandria and the swampy marshes of Herakleion Nome. Though even then he could still feel the blistering heat of the sun's harmful rays against his skin. Not even his hood was enough to keep the heat out of his face.

It didn't help that he was constantly running or climbing while wearing heavy equipment. The amount of sweat that was constantly leaking out of his skin probably would've been enough to fill up an entire lake.

No, if there was truly any reason for him to hate the desert, it was because there was never enough green_._

Sure there were the occasional field of trees and shrubbery here and there, but it was always overwhelmed by sand or rocky mountains. It was never just _green_. It was one of the reasons why he made sure to travel to the swamps whenever he got the chance. There was plenty of green and water cool enough to swim in. That is, if he was cautious enough to avoid the numerous packs of crocodiles and hippopotamus. Otherwise the entire area was practically a paradise in the middle of a wide expanse of hellish sand that seemed to expand on and on forever.

So it came as a great surprise to Bayek when the first thing he saw when he woke up buried all the way up to his neck in the middle of the desert was green.

Correction, it was actually a young woman but the hair that covered her head had been _green _of all things.

Bayek had never seen anyone with such oddly colored hair before. He had seen many shades of brown, black, and even the occasional blonde, but never had he ever seen anyone with hair as green as the trees that grew near his home village of Siwa.

He also took notice of the fact that she didn't seem at all bothered by the sweltering heat the desert sand gave off. Her skin was as white as the average Greek and Roman but they at least tended to have slightly tanned tones to them due to living in the sun for so long. This woman's skin wasn't at all tan but neither did she seem to have any sunburns. She was also standing completely barefoot in the hot sand, which in anyone else's case would have been like walking on hot coals, yet it still didn't seem to affect her like the hot and dry air. It was as if she was completely ignoring the heat that surrounded them both like a blanket made of pure fire. She wore strange clothing that only seemed to cover her private areas as the rest of her body was exposed to the harsh elements. Though he was reluctant to do so, he couldn't help but admire her _very_ generous curves, from the swells of her _very_ large breasts down to her thick, yet toned thighs. By Amun she was even more beautiful than Cleopatra, and _she_ was considered to be the most beautiful woman in all of Egypt! But this woman, who looked as if she had been sculpted and brought to life by the Greek goddess Aphrodite, herself, made Cleopatra look nothing more than a common street whore. And _that _was saying something!

"I would appreciate it if you didn't ogle my body like that."

"W-What?!" he asked her in surprise. By the Gods even her _voice_ sounded heavenly!

Her face remained as blank as stone as she stared down at his buried form with her dark eyes. "I said I would appreciate it if you didn't stare at my body like that. I'm not letting you cop a feel no matter how many times you ask."

Bayek's jaw dropped to the sand. Did she seriously think that he wanted to _grope_ her? Granted she _was_ very attractive but he certainly wasn't that kind of man! By Amun he was _married_ for Ra's sake! "T-That wasn't what I was thinking!" he yelled indigently. Thank the Gods his skin was dark enough to hide the blush that was creeping up on his face.

Suddenly he remembered why he was buried. Taharqa. The Scarab. _Taharqa was the Scarab_. He had been betrayed!

"Please, you must help me! Innocents will die if I don't kill the man responsible for this!" he tried to wiggle free but the sand was too thick for him to move his arms. He looked up at the woman with pleading eyes. Yet all she did was stand there with her arms tucked under her breasts.

"No." she said simply before walking away in the opposite direction.

"_WHAT?" _he yelled, eyes wide in bewilderment as the woman's form retreated further and further away. Was she really just going to leave him here?! _"WHAT IN RA'S NAME DO YOU MEAN 'NO'?! COME BACK AND GET ME OUT OF HERE!" _

The woman let out an annoyed sigh before she turned around and made her way back towards Bayek. Once close enough she crouched down onto her knees and leaned towards his buried form. Bayek had to force himself to not stare at the voluptuous mounds that gently swayed almost directly in front of his face. "Are you not Bayek of the village of Siwa? The very last Medjay?" she asked simply while staring deep into his eyes.

"What?" he asked in confusion. How did this woman know his name?

She ignored him. "Are you not them man who seeks revenge against the Order of the Ancients? The very same Order that not only murdered your only son but it is also is seeking to tear this very country apart? Did you not swear to yourself that you would not rest until you would murder all of those responsible?"

Bayek's jaw once again hit the sand in shock. His voice was lost to him as he stared up into the woman's blank yet serious gaze. _How does she know all of this? Who is she?_

"I-I-"

"Or," she stood back up, though her gaze never left his. "Are you perhaps someone who simply shares his name and his face? If you can't even manage to dig yourself out of that hole than there's no way you'll be able to obtain the revenge that you've sought for so long. Honestly, how can you even _think_ of calling yourself Medjay if you can't do something as simple digging your way out of a hole? It's absolutely _pathetic _if you ask me." With that said she turned around and took her leave once more.

Not once did she take notice of the raw _fury_ that had etched its way onto Bayek's face. How _dare_ this woman talk down to him as if he were an infant?!

Blind rage taking control of his mind, Bayek twisted and turned his entire body in rapid movements before he was eventually able to get one of his arms free. He struggled to get a firm grasp on the sand but after some trial and error he was rewarded with getting both his arms free. Placing his arms on both side of his body, Bayek forced himself to push his body up until he was able to wiggle his legs free. Within a few minutes, Bayek was finally free of his sandy prison and was on his arms and knees taking in deep breathes of air. Then before he knew what he was doing, his entire body shot forward like an arrow. His feat beat against the hot sand that burned his skin, yet Bayek ignored the pain in favor of catching up to the unknown woman, fully intending to pay her back with his fists for not only abandoning him back in that hellhole but for also having the sheer _audacity _to mock his vengeance against the Order as it was nothing but the boasts of a child.

However, when he reached the top of a nearby sand dune, he was shocked to see that she was nowhere in sight for miles in either direction. It was as if she had just disappeared into thin air. But that was _impossible_. He had _just_ seen her mere moments ago. It shouldn't have been possible for her to vanish so quickly.

Bayek felt sick. Had she merely been an illusion created by the intense heat? But she seemed so _real_. Her body, voice, everything about her had looked so corporeal. Yet she simply vanished from existence like a phantom.

A series of _thumps_ brought him out of his stupor and his shock was overcome with pure elation at the sight of his horse galloping its way towards him. His joy increased as he also spotted the familiar figure of his trusty eagle, Senu, flying high in the air before gliding down and landing on his outstretched arm. The bird chirped happily as she nuzzled his head. Bayek chuckled and gave the side of her small head a kiss and scratch, making her chirp more in contentment. He threw up his arm and Senu shot into the air once more. He walked over to his horse and gave her snout a nice rub before mounting on her back. That damned woman could wait. First, he had a traitor to kill.

* * *

He walked out of the temple, ignoring the anguished cries of Taharqa's family and the pang of guilt in his heart as they sobbed over his corpse. The traitor's blood ran down edges of his hidden blade and dripped into the sand. The full moon hung motionless in the night sky as it shined its heavenly light down on the land below, effectively casting a shadow behind Bayek's hooded form as he paced through the sandy streets of the near desolate town of Letopolis. All was quiet just as it should've been. The Scarab had been killed and once again the people were free to live without the fear of death looming around every corner. Though celebrating was the farthest thing from Bayek's mind at the moment. Taharqa, a close friend and confident, had been the Scarab from the very beginning. He, along with so many more from the cursed Order and been responsible for his son's death and for that he had to die. His mind still couldn't process how a man such a kind man like Taharqa could be a part of something so evil. How could he just sit and laugh with his family at home while the Order were tearing apart so many others? It was simply unfathomable. How many innocents had he tortured and killed?

How many more people would _he_ have to kill until the madness finally stopped?

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice that he somehow ended up on the outskirts of the city until he looked up, taking a moment to admire the sight of the Pyramids looming in the distance, whose protruding surfaces basked in the moonlight miles away.

"I see you've completed your mission." A nearby voice exclaimed.

Bayek froze. He turned.

Leaning her shoulder on an abandoned house no more than five feet away was the green-haired woman he saw in the desert. The very same woman who had nearly left him for dead.

He was on her in an instant. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her inside the house before roughly pushing her against the wall, hidden blade barely pricking against the skin of her throat. His shadowed eyes ablaze with barely restrained fury as he glared down at her slightly shorter form from behind his hood.

Despite the manhandling she had just experienced, her face remained perfectly impassive as she looked back up at him with her bored gaze. Even the blade pressed into her throat did nothing to deter her blank expression.

"You left me to die," he growled through gritted teeth. He was practically nose to nose with her with how close he was standing and didn't even notice that her breasts were practically squashed against his chest.

"I did no such thing," she replied simply. "I simply gave you the opportunity to escape on your own and you did. Not only that, your enemy is dead by your hand and you're standing here perfectly alive and well."

"And if I _hadn't _escaped?" the blade pushed into her skin with a bit more force, drawing droplets of blood that trailed down to her chest. She didn't even flinch.

"Then you would've died, and your quest for vengeance would have all been for naught as the sand devoured you whole." Her bored tone didn't waver. She talked as if she was simply discussing the weather.

"So you would've _willingly _let me die just to have me prove that I could've escaped on my own?" he asked, outraged. What was _wrong_ with this woman?

"_Yes_," she replied without hesitation. "I knew you would have escaped eventually. You're the last Medjay, are you not?" his body tensed as she repeated her words from earlier.

"You speak of that title as if it grants me immortality! I may be the last Medjay but I am still just a man! A man who is capable of dying just as easily as any other!"

"Yes, you are," she agreed. He _was_ just a man but he was also _so much more_. "You could very well drop dead right now or tomorrow and the world would still continue to move forward. But the simple fact that you _refuse_ to die even after all of the suffering you've endured is what separates you from so many others. Where other people would simply give up, you continue to strive forward no matter how much is thrown your way; like a ship against the deafening winds of a hurricane."

Bayek's anger slowly subsided but his grip on her didn't lessen, nor did he retract his blade from her throat. Though he didn't show it he was momentarily stunned, but more importantly he was confused. This was the longest he had ever heard the woman speak and she was talking about him as if he were some kind of hero from some kind of old fictitious story. Yet at the same time she had been willing to let him die. It honestly made him question her mental state.

"Are you going to stab me anytime soon or were you just hoping to look more threatening?" her nonchalant tone reminded him that he did, indeed, still had his blade pressed up against her throat. With an annoyed sigh, he retracted his weapon back inside his bracer before backing away and pulling her off the wall. Noticing the blood trail, he winced with guilt before reaching into his leather pack and pulling out a roll of cloth. He stepped forward, intending on wrapping it around the woman's wound before stopping in his tracks as she raised a hand towards him.

"I need to wrap the wound before it gets infected." The guilt in his voice was palpable. The wound _had_ been his fault after all.

"No need," she replied. "It's already healed. See?" She wiped the blood off her throat and his eyes widened when he saw that the wound had, indeed, been completely healed. There wasn't a single trace of a scar to be found on her throat. It was as if he had never even stabbed her.

"What in Amun?" he whispered in disbelief. He came up to her and put his hand where the wound had been moments before. It truly wasn't an allusion or a trick of the light. True to her word, there was nothing left to heal.

"What sorcery is this?" he demanded in disbelief. He had never seen a wound heal in a matter of seconds before.

"Not sorcery," she replied. And for the first time since he met her, her expression changed as the faintest trace of a smile graced her lips. "_**Magic**_."

He didn't have time to react before she pushed past him and made her way outside. Bayek followed after her not a second later. The cool desert wind blew through her green hair as she walked out into the open sea of sand. Bayek trailed after her not far behind and it took a great amount of effort for him to not let his eyes wander down to her swaying hips which greatly emphasized the shape of her wide, supple ass. Great Ra above, not even Aya's bodily proportions were as emphasized as this woman's.

Bayek shook his head, trying to rid his mind of such thoughts. _You're married for Ra's sake, stop it!_

The woman came to a stop on a nearby dune and clasped her hands behind her back as stared up at the moon with a look of wonder on her face. Bayek stood parallel to her left with his arms crossed but didn't say anything. Simply taking the time to study the mysterious figure beside him.

"I hope you know what you're doing," her voice brought him back to reality. "You still have a long journey ahead of you. Much of it will be filled with strife, pain, and death. Tell me…" she brought her gaze towards him. "Are you truly prepared to sacrifice everything to avenge your son? Is it really worth so much pain and misery?"

For some reason the mention of his son didn't anger him like it did before. Still, he couldn't help but shiver at her ominous words. "I do this becauseI want to _end_ the pain and misery. This isn't just about avenging my son, but _all_ people of Egypt. The Order of the Ancients will bleed this land dry until there's nothing left. Someone _has_ to be willing to take a stand and put an end to their evil. And if that means I must do it all on my own," his lips curled up into a grin. "Then that is a sacrifice I am _more_ than willing to make."

"Even if it only results in more death?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, though there was no judgement in her tone.

"Not everyone can be saved unfortunately," a sad sigh escaped his lips. "I am not a God. Just one man who is _far_ from perfect. People will die no matter how hard I try to save them. I simply must do the best I can and save those who _can_ be saved."

Her face remained blank for what felt like hours until another smile made its way onto her lips. Only this time it was wider and so full of _life_.

It made Bayek's heart skip a beat.

Her smile never left her face as she stared back up at the moon, Bayek's eyes soon following hers as he, too, couldn't help but admire its ethereal glow that seemed to light up the night sky.

"Maybe this world won't be so bad after all," he heard her whisper.

There was a sudden gust of wind that made Bayek shield his eyes. When it ceased he looked to his right, and for some reason wasn't entirely surprised to see that there was nothing there.

She had vanished once more, leaving him alone in the midst of a dark, empty wasteland.

* * *

"_What the hell?"_

"_Layla? You doing alright in there?"_

"_I'm fine, Dee. Just saw some really weird shit is all."_

"_Weirder than watching a two millennia-old Egyptian hunting a group of masked psychopaths trying to take over the world?"_

"_Yes, actually. Like, at least three times as weird. Say, Dee…you wouldn't happen to have info on any women with green hair living in 49 BCE would you?"_

"…_What? Women with __**green**__ hair? You sure you're okay, Layla? 'Cause I think you may have been spending a liiitle too much time in the animus if you're seeing things like women with green hair." _

"_Oh screw off, Dee. I know what I saw. So do you know anything or not?" _

"_No, Layla. There's absolutely no information regarding any women with green hair living in ancient Egypt. I'm pretty sure hair dye wasn't even a thing back then. You sure you're not just seeing things?"_

"_Ugh! Never mind! Forget that I said anything! I'm going back in. Don't wait up for me." _

"_Whatever you say, crazy girl."_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III: White Feathers

Being initiated into the Assassin Brotherhood as a Novice was one of the most honorable privileges a young man of Masyaf could be offered. To many of the fathers in the Order it was seen as a gateway for their sons to exit out of the wild and rambunctious lifestyle of adolescence and into the grown shoes of a responsible adult. From the moment they hit the tender age of twelve, the boys are put through rigorous tests and harsh training regiments so that they could grow into the strong and capable warriors that would one day replace their fathers as the future keepers of peace. To many of the youth, it was a chance for them to make their fathers proud while also having the opportunity to finally escape the confines of the village that had kept them isolated from the rest of the world. In short, it was an equally exhilarating day for both father and son.

To Altair, however, it was a day of complete and utter _humiliation_. And why wouldn't it be? A mere day ago he had been a _Master_; one of, if not, _the_ best Assassins that the Order had to offer. Now, though, he was Novice once more. A _child_ as Al Mualim had so kindly put it. Reduced to nothing more than another messily recruit who had been stripped of everything but the robes on his back. Well, not _everything_ thankfully. He still had his hidden blade, a standard soldier's sword strapped to his waist and all the skills that he had learned over the years but to him it almost felt like nothing. His body had little to no protection in the way of armor, no throwing knives, and his favorite eagle-hilted sword had been confiscated. He truly _was_ nothing more than a Novice now.

He ignored the loud jeers and whispered insults thrown at him from the other Assassins as he made his way out of the castle's courtyard and down the dirt road that led into the village; the scowl that seemed to be permanently etched onto his face was more pronounced while his strides were stiff and tense. He was tempted to put all of them in their place; to show them that just because he was a Novice didn't mean he was any less capable of beating them within an inch of their lives. He didn't though as he wasn't willing to give them the satisfaction of letting their empty ridicule bother him. He moved as he always did; a blade in the crowd. A silent killer that went unnoticed even in plain sight.

He reached the village's front gate and was about to grab a horse from the nearby stable until a familiar figure made him stop in his tracks. His scowl only deepened when he saw who it was.

"Abbas," he said simply as the man sauntered up to him with a 'holier-than-thou' smirk on his bearded face. He crossed his arms and rested his shoulder on one of stable's support beams, his eyes conveying amusement as he stared at Altair through half-lidded eyes.

"Novice," he replied in a mocking tone as his lips turned further upwards. How Altair wished he could permanently knock that smile off his face. "Off to do more of the Master's bidding? Maybe if you're good enough he'll throw you a bone and give you a nice pat on the head for good measure."

Altair had to resist the urge to knock the man's teeth out. "Do you actually have anything of importance to say or did you just come here to waste my time with petty insults?"

"Just making sure you know not to get a swelled head," he replied flippantly. "Allah knows we don't need anyone else getting killed because of your false sense of superiority."

'_And Allah knows that if you weren't an Assassin I would kill you were you stand.'_ Altair thought silently. However he stayed his hand and simply sent the man a seething glare.

"And _you _would do well to remember the same. Don't think that me being a Novice has dwindled my skills in the slightest. We both know who would win should we choose to cross blades."

"Arrogant until the very end," Abbas scoffed. "Why Al Mualim hasn't rid the Order of you, I'll never know." Uncrossing his arms, the assassin got up to make his exit before swiftly turning back to Altair. "Just remember, _brother_, that should you make a mockery of our Creed again, I'll be the first to watch as the old man rips your life away from your body again. _Permanently_." With that, Abbas turned around and made his way back into the village, soon disappearing into the crowd.

Altair remained silent as he stared in the direction of his once long-time friend and rival before mounting his horse and making his way out of the village gates. It would be at least a few days journey until he reached Damascus, leaving him plenty of time alone to contemplate on his troubled thoughts. Best to make the most of the time while he had it.

* * *

Two days had passed since he left Masyaf and into the outlands of the Syrian Kingdom. Steep mountains and jutted cliffs effectively blocked out the harsh sun from view as various villages and abandoned buildings littered the landscape. Altair rode at a steady pace through the dusty and winding roads while trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible as to not attract the attention of Saladin's soldiers as they patrolled the area; keeping steady and sharp eyes trained on his hooded person with their hands on the hilt of their swords. Altair would've snorted in amusement at their paranoia if he wasn't so sure it would give them a reason to draw their blades. While he wouldn't have minded the challenge he _definitely _wasn't in the mood to get into a pissing match with a bunch of overzealous guards. Honestly these idiotic men would've run their swords through anyone who so much as _looked_ at them funny. How Saladin was managing his hold against King Richard with these men was beyond him.

Feeling parched from the intense heat, Altair decided to make a stop at a nearby fishing village for some fresh water. His supply had sadly run out on the first day due to an unexpected heat wave and had gone hours on end without a single drop of water, leaving his mouth nearly bone dry. He dismounted his horse and tied the reins to a nearby post before walking up to one of the merchant stalls. Giving the man a few coins, he purchased a large leather sack of fresh water and gave the merchant a nod in thanks before making his way back to his horse. Unscrewing the sack's cork, he took a large swig and relished as the cool liquid moisturized his dry mouth before swallowing. Screwing the cork back on, he tied the sack to his waist belt and mounted his horse. Giving it a quick kick to its sides, the steed galloped out of the village at an increased speed before both disappeared in the distance down the dirt road.

A few more hours passed before the sun started to set over the horizon. Deciding that traveling at night wouldn't be the best of options, Altair was about to guide his horse off the road and into a secluded spot to make camp before the sudden clash of swords echoed off in the distance. Looking up from his current position, Altair could see that the sound was coming from an abandoned tower that was perched on a nearby hill. He had been travelling on a secluded road that cut off from the main one in hopes of reaching Damascus sooner so there shouldn't have been any nearby soldiers for miles as they typically stuck to patrolling the main roads and the mountains were far too treacherous for any bandits to hide in. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious as to what was happening up there.

Getting off his horse, Altair broke out into a dead sprint up the hill and towards the commotion; his thin leather shoes hid the majority of his movement as his feet rapidly tapped against the dirt in short bursts. As he got closer he could hear the pained yells of various male voices as well as the _'thumps'_ of bodies hitting the ground. The fighting only got more intense as he reached the top. Ducking behind some nearby rocks, he slowly peaked over the edge, being careful to mask his presence as he watched the ongoing conflict.

There were indeed bandits who had set up camp near the abandoned structure. _Had _being the operative word as he could see that most of them were already dead. There were about a half dozen bodies littered around the camp with blood flowing out of multiple lacerations that had been made across their now discarded corpses, obviously from a sword. The ones who _were_ still alive were doing very little to hold their own against the figure they were fighting. He couldn't get a clear visual on the person since they were clothed in some strange hooded garb that hid their figure from his sight. What he _could_ see was how they fought. They moved through the bandits like water through stones. Movements and sword strikes so _fluid_ it looked as though they were dancing rather than fighting. Their sword cut through the bandits as if their flesh was made of butter. However their battlefield awareness didn't seem to match with their sword skills as they never took notice of one of the bandits silently taking aim with his bow. Without even thinking, Altair leapt from his hiding spot and ran into the fray. The bandit didn't have time to draw back the bow before Altair's hidden blade shot out from its sheath and buried itself deep into the man's neck. Gurgling on his own blood, there was little struggle as Altair withdrew the blade and let the man's body drop to the ground. Unsheathing his sword, Altair moved onto the next bandit. Using his hidden blade he slashed across the man's throat before plunging his sword straight into the bandit's chest, killing him instantly. Seeing some throwing knives on the man's body, he quickly picked them up and threw them into the back of a bandit who had been attacking the hooded figure before turning his attention towards the last assailant who had dropped his sword and was running away in a panic.

Altair was upon him in seconds before his hidden blade put his life to an end. He wiped the blade clean of blood before retracting it into its sheathe before making his way back towards the tower where he found the hooded figure digging through the pockets of one of the corpses.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a hint of concern in his normally hard voice. Whoever this person was they didn't seem to be injured from where Altair was standing. They didn't reply as they merely continued rummaging through the dead bandit's belongings. Frowning at the lack of response, Altair approached them from behind with his hand raised. "Hey, I said are you alri-"

_"_I'm fine!" the figure snapped, stopping Altair in his tracks. Behind his hood, his eyebrows rose in surprise when he heard the voice of a woman. Her tone was light yet it was also slightly hoarse as if her throat was sore. She continued to pay him no mind as she got up and grabbed a small sack of coins from another nearby corpse.

"Who are you?" Altair asked curiously. Though his tone made it sound more like a demand rather than a question.

The mysterious woman still didn't turn around. "None of your business," she replied with a clipped tone.

A small flicker of anger coursed through Altair at the woman's attitude. "I just saved your life," he sneered as he stalked towards her kneeled form. "The least you could do is give me your name and tell me why you're out here alone." His hand grabbed her shoulder and was prepared to turn her around – forcefully if need be – until she suddenly jumped to her feet and slapped his hand away. Startled at the unexpected action he jumped back into a defensive stance and brought out his hidden blade, fully prepared to end the woman's life if she turned out to be hostile. He expected her to draw out her sword or at the very least try and make a run for it.

What he did _not_ expect was for her to face towards him and draw back her hood; and the first thing Altair saw was _white_.

White _hair_ to be exact. It was as white as the snow that fell on the Syrian mountains during winter and longer than any mane he had ever seen on a woman. It poured out of her hood and down to the middle of her back like a waterfall. It was so white that it practically glowed in the darkness of night. The nearby camp fire that was still lit only seemed to enhance its otherworldly glow. Though her hair wasn't the only thing about her that he noticed. Her skin was as white as a European's while her eyes were as blue as the ocean. Adorning her hair was a strange looking piece of blue cloth that ended with two large bows tied to each side of her head. She also had a small button nose and a small pert mouth with thin lips that were currently set into an annoyed sneer. Her blue eyes were narrowed and her brows were furrowed in anger as she looked towards him.

"If you _must_ know," she started as she took an aggressive step towards him. "I've been trying to find these assholes for weeks because they took my _sister_." She didn't stop her advance until she was standing directly in front of him and staring up into his hooded face. She was a few inches shorter than him, he noticed. The top of her head was at the same length as his eyes. She also didn't seem too concerned about the blade that was mere inches away from her body.

"It seems that you've arrived a little too late," he stated dryly. "Besides us, there's no one else around for miles."

He received an eye roll from her in response. "Yeah, no _shit_." She walked over to one of the corpses and gave it a swift kick. "My sister was one of the slaves they were travelling with before she was handed off to another group. They split off long before I got here." Her hands clenched at her sides as she grit her teeth together and before he could react she brought up her leg and _slammed_ it down on the bandit's head. The resounding _'crack' _echoed around the entire area as the bandit's head was cracked open like an egg. Blood, bone, and brain matter splashed everywhere as if she had just jumped into a puddle. Utterly shocked at her display of brutality, Altair quickly looked away and tried not to pay attention as some droplets of blood landed on his white robes. He dared himself to not look down less he threatened to empty the contents of his stomach all over the ground.

He heard her chuckle and reluctantly turned around, only to almost jump back when he saw her standing right next to him as if suddenly appearing from thin air. Her arms were crossed and the smile she was giving him was almost enough to make him shiver.

"Sorry about that," she said slyly. Her tone didn't sound the least bit apologetic. She also didn't seem too concerned about the fact that an entire brain was splattered on her leg. "I just _really _needed to let loose some pent up anger. You see, I haven't seen my baby sister in _years_ and just recently got her back, only to have her _ripped_ from my arms all over again. You could probably imagine how utterly _pissed off _I was when I find out she was kidnapped by goddamn _slavers _of all people." A few tears fell from her eyes and her entire body started to shake. "Just when I promised to always protect her, this shit happens. _Again_." She covered her eyes with her hands as she began to sob quietly.

Altair was stuck. He honestly didn't know what to make of this woman. On one hand he knew she was extremely deadly with a sword if that one-sided massacre was anything to go by. On the other hand, the loss of her sister made her _extremely_ emotional and therefore completely unpredictable. Not that he could blame her. After all, she wasn't the only person he knew who lost a sibling.

The thought left a _very_ bitter taste in his mouth. And for some reason, it made him want to help her.

Before he knew what he was doing he put a hand on her shoulder, causing her shaking body to stiffen before her glassy red eyes met his. His face was set into a neutral frown but his eyes had softened considerably.

"Listen," his normally rough voice also had a soft hint to it. "I'm sorry about your sister. Truly I am. I would like to help you but unfortunately I'm in the middle of a very important mission that cannot be delayed any longer. However," he lifted his finger when she was about to speak. "If you share with me everything you know about your sister, I will do my best to try and find her whenever my time is free. Do you know where they might've taken her? Or the names of any of the men who took her? Any information you have at all would be helpful."

The woman took a moment to collect herself. She gave a slight sniffle before nodding her head. "They never gave a specific location but they said they were taking her and the others East of here to a man who would pay them _handsomely _for each slave. Some asshole named _Telal_."

A name and a general location. It certainly wasn't much but it was much better than nothing. "Alright. I'll be sure to keep my eyes and ears open for any information regarding this slaver. Should I find anything worthy of not, I'll find you and let you know." With that said, he turned to leave only to stop when her voice suddenly called out to him.

"Wait!" he turned back to her with a raised eyebrow, not that she could see it behind his hood. "How do I contact you if I find something?"

"Send a courier pigeon to Masyaf, specifically to Altair. That's me." Suddenly he remembered something he forgot to ask. "I don't believe I ever got your name."

"It's Sorano," she replied. "And if it helps, my sister's name is Yukino. She has blue eyes and white hair like me."

"Thank you, Sorano. It certainly does. Until we meet again." He gave her a farewell nod and walked back down towards his horse, deciding to set up camp at the bottom of the hill and away from all of the carnage. He honestly didn't know what made him want to help the young woman find her sister. He had literally just met her yet for some reason he had agreed to help her find her lost sister. He didn't even know anything about her!

Maybe it was because the anger in her eyes reminded him so much of Malik. He remembered seeing the same look in his eyes when he blamed him for his brother's death. Maybe it was because he didn't want the same thing, or something worse, to happen to the woman's – to _Sorano's_ – sister. He knew what kind of men slavers were, especially with women. The kinds of things they did were enough to make even him wince in disgust. Nobody should have to go through that kind of torture and he would be more than happy to send all those responsible to hell where they belonged.

He would travel to Damascus and finish his business there. As soon as Tamir's blood stained his white feather, he would begin his search for another.

* * *

"_Who was that woman, Miss Stillman?"_

"_No idea. I'm not finding anything in our databases about her or anybody by the name of 'Yukino.'"_

"_Yukino…That's Japanese isn't it?"_

"_It's a typical female Japanese name, yes. Though that woman certainly didn't look like she was from Japan. Especially with that white hair of hers." _

"_Yes, that is rather curious isn't it? Having white hair and not looking a day over twenty? Any idea how that's possible for someone during the Crusades?"_

"_It might be a rare case of Autoimmune Disease or some kind of unknown genetic disorder that causes the whiteness in her hair color. Though I won't know for sure until I have more information on her." _

"_Either way, let's not focus too much on it right now. We still need to find the locations of the Pieces of Eden. There's too much at stake and we don't have time for any side projects. Find what you can on that woman but keep your main focus on the Pieces of Eden."_

"_Yes, sir." _


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV: Pale Hands

Ezio woke up in an unfamiliar place.

A painful groan escaped his lips as he tried and failed to move. His head hurt. His chest hurt. His entire _body_ hurt. His breathing was ragged and it felt like he was inhaling shards of glass with every breath he took. _Must have broken a few ribs_ he thought to himself as he felt around his abdomen, only to wince as more pain suddenly shot through his body. Yep, he definitely broke more than a few ribs. He also noticed with some confusion that most of his torso was bandaged up. The same went for both his biceps, his entire right hand, both his legs, as well as his forehead. He could even see a few dashes of blood that leaked through some of his bandages; probably as a result of him moving around too much. A surge of guilt passed through him. Whoever had bandaged him up had obviously worked pretty hard to make sure he healed correctly and he just went and ruined it all by reopening his wounds. He'd have to make sure to give them a heartfelt apology whenever he saw them.

Speaking of which, who _had_ healed him? And where _was_ he for that matter? Looking around, Ezio could easily tell that he was in someone's house. The room was decorated nicely with multiple paintings and vases of flowers that gave off the aroma of a fresh spring morning. It vaguely reminded him of his mother's garden. There were also a few open windows, allowing the slight cool breeze of the summer night to blow into the room and lightly flicker the flames of the lit lanterns and candles that brought light into the darkened abode. He could also see that he was currently situated on a nice, soft crimson-colored bed with folded up curtains and multiple pillows that were supporting his head. If Ezio hadn't been so badly injured at the moment he would've thought that he was on another one of his nightly escapades with some random girl. The thought made him chuckle which immediately brought on another wave of pain. _Damn_ he thought. _If only Christina could be here with me. The best healing a man could receive is the loving touch of a woman_.

Ezio craned his neck when a small _'click'_ suddenly echoed around the room before the bedroom door was promptly opened.

He almost fainted right on the spot when he saw who had entered.

It seemed the good Lord Almighty had answered his prayers when he asked for a woman's healing touch. Only it wasn't a woman He had sent but a literal _angel_.

Long, wavy hair as white as an angel's wings framed a small, delicate face like a portrait straight out of Leonardo da Vinci's paintings. It flowed like water over her shoulders before further descending all the way down to the small of her back. A small bit was tied on top of her head, giving it the appearance of a white swirl. Adorning her face was a pair of large, topaz-colored eyes that stared directly into his own and were so full of _life_ that it made Ezio want to get lost in them for all eternity. She also had a cute button nose followed by a pair of thin, glossy lips that were currently set into the _warmest_ smile he had ever seen. It was so warm that it smothered Ezio like a blanket; not even his own mother's smiles had made him feel as loved as this woman's had. Practically everything about this woman radiated warmth, serenity, and _love_. It made his heart race like a hundred galloping horses.

"You're awake," her gentle and melodic voice even sounded like that of an angel. It reverberated around the room and was _so_ soothing to Ezio's ears. But what made his heart soar the was _way_ she spoke. She sounded so _glad_ that he was alright. It almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. She may as well have been the female personification of Orpheus. Her footsteps were as light as a feather as she grabbed a nearby chair and brought it over to the side of his bed. Sitting down, she leaned over and very gently laid her pale and thin hands over his bandaged skin. Her beautiful eyes set themselves into a small frown when she saw the numerous red spots. "You seem to be recovering nicely. Though it looks like you reopened some wounds."

She didn't seem to be the slightest bit upset but her frown made Ezio feel like he had just committed an unforgivable sin. "I-I'm so sorry, _Madonna_," he stuttered out. Now he _definitely_ felt guilty. "I just woke up and I didn't know where I was and I thought that-"

He didn't get that chance to say more when he was suddenly cut off by the most beautiful giggle that had ever graced his ears. The woman's body lightly shook as she brought up one of her hands to cover her quivering lips. It was quiet giggle but it was the only sound in the whole room that Ezio's ears picked up. She removed her hand away from her mouth and lightly patted his head. He relished in the soothing feeling her fingers gave off as they traced through his long hair. "It's alright," her smile only seemed to get brighter if that were possible. "I understand _completely_. You were confused and scared and that's _fine_. I just glad that you're okay. You've been through a lot in the past few hours. It's okay to be scared."

Her reassurance immediately calmed him down and once again he could feel his heart rate pick up. Though her last few statements confused him. Now that he thought about it, what _had_ happened to him? "My apologies, _Madonna_, but how exactly did I end up here? I'm afraid I don't remember much about what happened to me."

That frown that he hated seeing was back on her face and the warmth in her eyes was replaced with sadness. "I found you while I was out shopping in the markets. You were unconscious in an abandoned alley and _very _badly in injured. You were bleeding so much that it was honest miracle you were still alive. I had to carry you all that way back to my home. Luckily it was still dark at the time so no one was able to see us."

To say that Ezio was disturbed was a drastic understatement. He had almost _died_? And this woman was forced to carry his mangled body all the way back to her home _by herself_? He didn't know whether he should apologize profusely to her or ask how he had ended up that way in the first place. After a few moments of debating with himself, he settled for the former. "I'm so sorry," he meant it with all his heart. "I didn't mean to be an inconvenience to you-"

"You were _not_ an inconvenience," she stated firmly as her eyes hardened. "There was no way I was just going to let someone die alone on the streets. Especially after everything you've been through."

"That's another thing I've been meaning to ask. What exactly happened to-"

Suddenly it all came back to him with the force of a blunt hammer.

_His father and brothers falsely accused and imprisoned for a crime they didn't commit. _

_Him running to his father's friend, Uberto Alberti, with the evidence needed for their release. _

_The absolute horror he felt when his father and brothers were hung by the neck; executed by the very same man who had promised to help them. _

_His heart pounding with overwhelming anger, grief, and exhaustion as he tried to outrun the city guards before everything suddenly went black. _

All those emotions and more came rushing back to his head at once as he recalled the events that led up to his injured state.

Tears were pooling out of his eyes and down his cheeks before he even had a chance to stop them. A heart-wrenching sob escaped his quivering lips as his vision began to blur. He couldn't see, hear, or focus on anything anymore as he cried over what he had lost. He cried for his father who always seemed to be proud of him no matter what trouble he got into. He cried for Federico who had not only been his older brother but also his best friend. He cried for Petruccio who never got a chance to live a full life. But more importantly, he cried for both his mother and sister who no doubt had already heard the terrible news and probably thought that he was dead as well. God, how much more pain and misery did his family have to go through?

He was so lost in his own mourning that he didn't even notice the woman gently clasping his injured hand between hers and bringing it up to her lips where she proceeded to place small kisses on his bandaged knuckles. Tears prickled her eyes as she rocked his arm back and forth in her tight grasp. It was a small gesture but it was more than enough to calm Ezio down as his sobs were reduced to small, muffled cries. No words were spoken between the two occupants for some time as Ezio continued to let his raw emotions loose while the woman did her best to help relieve him of his pain.

Finally after what felt like hours Ezio had calmed down enough to finally notice the woman still grasping his arm. Unconsciously, he unfurled his fingers and rested the palm of his hand against her cheek. She leaned into his touch and didn't stop him when his thumb started grazing across her flawless skin.

"I thank you from the bottom of my heart, _Madonna_," Ezio told her earnestly. "I would have surely been dead if it wasn't for your help. Your husband is very fortunate to have married someone as kind as you."

His statement earned himself another giggle that vibrated against his hand. He swore he would never get tired of hearing it. "You are more than welcome, and although it may come as a surprise to you, I'm still single."

"_Che cosa?!" _he exclaimed in disbelief. "How is that possible?! Surely someone as beautiful as you would have hundreds of suitors!"

Her face turned a bright shade of red at being called beautiful but her smile remained firmly in place. "Yes, I've had a few proposals in the past but I simply wasn't ready for marriage at the time. Life is much too short, especially in these times of tragedy and I simply want the chance to live as much of it as I can before I even think about handing myself over to anyone special."

"That's a wonderful decision," he told her with a smile. She was right after all. Life was all about living it to the fullest. His younger self would certainly agree with her with all of the partying and girls he flirted with over the years. "Life is, indeed, much too short for anyone to anchor themselves to one person. You should take your time and follow what your heart desires no matter what anyone else tells you."

"Which is exactly what I plan to do." She nodded to him in thanks. However it was then that they both realized that Ezio's hand was still on her cheek. Ezio's face quickly became as red as hers as he snatched his hand away from her face. He muttered out a quick "Sorry" as turned his head in the other direction, too embarrassed to look the woman in the eye. His embarrassment didn't last long when a pleasantly warm palm cupped his own cheek and gently rotated his head back so that his gaze was back on hers. Her eyes stared into his with that same warmness that was there before but he could also sense something else behind it. Something that reminded him so much of the way Christina would always look at him.

Another thing came to mind as he stared into her eyes. Something he had been meaning to ask her since he first saw her.

"What's your name?" he whispered to her.

"_Mirajane,"_ she whispered back. And before he could react, she leaned over his injured form and placed the gentlest of kisses on his cheek. Ezio suddenly felt his eyelids getting heavy and soon found himself drifting back into unconsciousness.

* * *

When he woke up hours later, he was pleasantly surprised to find himself back at the La Rosa Colta.

He was even more surprised when he saw that his injuries had not only fully healed but had disappeared completely. There were no scars, scratches or any leftover indication whatsoever to prove that he had received them in the first place. It was as if they had never even existed.

His Assassin robes had also been thoroughly cleaned of any leftover blood and were neatly folded by his bedside. Not only that, it seemed both his sister and mother had taken it upon themselves to remain by his bedside until he had awoken. Both had nearly bowled him over with hugs and kisses the second he woke up. They were crying and Claudia had nearly chewed his ear off with many questions and demands. _'Where were you?', 'Why were you gone for so long?', 'Where are father, Federico, and Petruccio?'_

Her last question brought a new wave of tears to his eyes as he regretfully told them the news. The result was a _very_ tight group hug and lots of crying from the last three remaining Auditore family members. After they had all calmed down, Ezio had gently but firmly told them both that they needed to leave the city as soon as possible as they were all still wanted by the city. Claudia had vehemently refused at first, stating that she didn't want to leave their home and wanted to give their deceased family members a proper burial. Ezio refuted her statement, telling her that the rest of them will be killed if they didn't leave Firenze. Maria didn't say anything, still too deep in her own shock at the news of her beloved husband and sons being put to death.

Claudia eventually agreed in the end albeit very reluctantly. She still didn't want to leave her home but Ezio's reasoning soon won her over. It wasn't like she would have a home to go to anymore if she were dead. With their plans made, Ezio adorned his Assassin robes and set out to find the Colta's Headmistress, Paola, who also happened to be the older sister of his family's handmaiden, Annetta. He thanked her for her hospitality and requested that she continue to look after his family while he set out to kill Uberto Alberti. Paola readily agreed but not before she managed to convince him to learn the skills necessary for his survival, such as pickpocketing, using courtesans to his advantage, and lowering his notoriety. It took longer than he would've liked but he was eventually able to master each skill to an acceptable degree. Before long she sent him off to Leonardo's workshop so that he repair the tool necessary to kill Uberti; the hidden blade.

As Ezio maneuvered his way through the crowded city and towards the workshop, his thoughts began to wander back to the white-haired woman that had saved him. _Mirajane_ he reminded himself. Had she'd been the one to bring his body to the La Rosa Colta? If so, then why hadn't he'd seen her there? Had she gone back to her home so that she wouldn't be seen aiding a wanted criminal? Had she'd somehow contacted Paola of his location?

Had she'd even been real? Or had she simply been a fragment of his imagination. He _had_ been injured and unconscious for some time. Was it possible he had just made the whole encounter up and had been sleeping in the La Rosa Colta the whole time?

His hand reached up and touched the area where she had kissed him. _No_, he told himself. _She was real. She _is_ real._

Shaking his head of any doubts Ezio put all of his focus on getting to Leonardo's workshop. He'd have plenty of time to contemplate on such thoughts latter. Right now he had a traitor to kill and a family to avenge.

Yet no matter how much he focused on those two particular thoughts, it still didn't stop the slightest pang of doubt from creeping into his chest.

* * *

It was done. Uberto Alberti was dead by his hand and his father and brothers had been avenged. Using the skills that Paola had graciously taught him, he had been able to not only outrun the city guards but also render himself inconspicuous once again, allowing him to roam the city without fear of being noticed. The only thing left was getting the remainder of his family as far away from Firenze as possible. Unfortunately for him the entire city was currently put on lockdown meaning that no one could neither enter nor exit the city until the killer – himself – had been caught.

He arrived back at the La Rosa Costa just as the sun was beginning its descent into the horizon, alighting the late afternoon sky with shades of orange and red. He entered the building and was overjoyed to once again see his mother and sister, who both greeted him with tight hugs and kisses on the cheek. Since neither of the three remaining Auditores had any belongings to bring with them they opted to travel on foot since it was still too dangerous to take a carriage. Ezio told them that they would be traveling to Uncle Mario's villa in Monteriggioni since it was far enough away from Firenze. From there they would continue traveling to the nearest harbor where they would proceed to sail away to either Spain or France for a few years until this whole incident would – _hopefully_ – blow over.

With that said, Ezio and his family bid farewell to Paola, thanking her once again for her help and hospitality.

"Oh, Ezio!" Paola's voice stopped Ezio and his family in their tracks as they all turned to see the courtesan Headmistress walking up to Ezio and handing him a sealed envelope. "I almost forgot. A mutual friend of ours wanted me to give this to you. She told me to tell you to not open it until you're in a safe place."

Ezio raised a curious eyebrow as he examined the envelope. It was lightly tan in color but he couldn't find any indication as to who it was from. "Does this mutual friend have a name?" he asked as he pocketed the envelope.

"I think you already know who it is," Paola said with a knowing wink before disappearing back inside the La Costa Rosa.

Her statement caused a surge of excitement to shoot through him. Could it be…?

"So who is the letter from?" Claudia asked as soon as he caught back up with them.

"Someone I owe my life to." Ezio replied simply. But the wide smile on her brother's face told Claudia that there was more to it than that. However she chose to drop the subject for the moment and decided to bring it up on a later date. Preferably when they weren't all wrongly convicted criminals.

* * *

Will the help of some nearby courtesans, Ezio and his family were able to sneak past the guards at Firenze's west entrance. The three had made grate time on the road as they traveled for nearly two hours before spending the night at a nice roadside inn. Luckily there were no soldiers patrolling the area so they had no trouble renting two rooms; one for Claudia and Maria and the other for Ezio, himself.

Ezio sat at the bedside table, silently staring at the sealed envelope in his hands as the lantern slowly burned away its oil. His Assassin robes lay discarded on a nearby dresser as he opted to sleep in a simple shirt and trousers. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he continued to stare at the stamped seal keeping the envelope closed. His fingers itched and his anxiety grew with each passing second. He wanted desperately to rip open the letter and read its contents yet for some reason his hands wouldn't move. It was like an invisible force was locking his body in some kind of trance.

Why the hell was he so nervous? It was just a stupid letter for _Cristo's_ sake! It wasn't like he was expecting any bad news was he? And as far as he could tell he hadn't done anything to anger her. _So why couldn't he just open the damned letter already?!_

Deciding to bite the metaphorical arrow, Ezio carefully tore the envelope open. With a shaky sigh, he set his eyes on the paper and began to read.

_Ezio, mio caro amico, _

_I heard about what happened and know that it was you who murdered Uberto Alberti. While I must say that I do not approve of your methods, I'm still dearly relieved to hear that you and your family are safe and sound. You have no idea how scared I was when I heard that the whole city was looking for you! You nearly gave me a heart attack! Shame on you, Ezio Auditore! I already saved you from death's grasp once and was certainly not looking forward to doing it again! It would've killed me to see you in such a horrible state a second time!_

Overwhelming guilt dropped into Ezio's stomach like a cannonball. Looking back on it now, he could see that what he did had, indeed, been foolish and downright reckless. Still, he had no idea it affected her this much.

_I understand what that man has taken from you. Please believe me when I say that I know more than anyone what it feels like to lose a member of your family. But please listen to me when I tell you this: do not lose yourself to vengeance. It is a dark and lonely path that holds neither peace nor comfort. You will only continue to lose those closest to you and in the end you will have no one else but yourself to rely on. Loneliness is a fate much worse than death and no one deserves to be alone. Especially you. _

Ezio could feel tears stinging the edges of his eyes.

_Before I go on any further I want you to know that I know who – or I should say – what you really are. I know that you're an Assassin. Or at least, I know that you're training to become one. I've known about the Assassin's for some time and what they do. You may be surprised to know that our mutual friend, Paola, is an Assassin herself._

_That_ certainly threw Ezio for a loop. Paola was an Assassin? Was that how she was able to teach him all those skills in back in Firenze? And how did she know Paola?

_And in case you were wondering, she was the one who brought you to the La Rosa Costa. She and I have known each other for a while. She and her girls have helped me out a lot in the past and I've been close friends with her and most of the courtesans for quite some time. _

So _that_ was how he ended up the La Rosa Costa. He had to remind himself to thank her once again the next time he saw her.

_Anyway, I better wrap up this letter before I start to ramble. Once again, it fills my heart with warmth to know that you're alright, Ezio. My heart goes out to you, your mother, and your sister and I wish you all the safety, peace, and happiness that the world has to offer. As an Assassin I know that you will have to endure many painful trials and do things that people will look down on you for. But no matter what happens, know that you will always be able to find a friend in me. I hope beyond all hope that you will be able to move past all the hardship and pain and find true happiness. I mean that more than you could ever imagine. Stay strong, always keep a smile on your face and I promise you that we will see each other again. Even now I'm looking forward to the day where I can embrace you with the biggest hug I have to give. Stay safe and know that you'll never be alone. _

_-Yours dearest, Mirajane. _

No words could describe the pure elation that was flowing through Ezio at the moment. He was so happy that his grin threatened to split his face down the middle. A few tears of joy dribbled down his cheeks and onto the desk, creating a small puddle. He hastily wiped his eyes clean with his arm before carefully folding the letter back up and stuffing it in the pocket of his robes. He blew out the lantern and settled himself into the covers of his bed. Closing his eyes he let himself fall into the realm of unconsciousness; his dreams filled with nothing but the image of a white-haired, blue-eyed angel.

* * *

"_What the hell? Another one?"_

"_Another what, Lucy?" _

"_This is the third woman I've seen with white hair in these memories." _

"_Third? You mean there are two others?" _

"_Yeah. While we were studying Altair's memories back in Abstergo. He came into contact with a young woman and her sister during the Crusades; both of them also had white hair."_

"_Maybe it was just a coincidence."_

"_Two times is a coincidence, Rebecca. Three times is a pattern. But what's even stranger was the fact that the two women we saw in Altair's memories had these weird magical powers."_

"_Magic? Really Lucy? Are you sure the Templars weren't just trying to mess with your head?"_

"_I know what I saw, Shaun. Vidic saw it too. He almost had a damn aneurysm right on the spot." _

"_Heh, now that's something I wouldn't mind seeing." _

"_What I'm __**trying**__ to say is that I think these three might be connected somehow. I mean, this one even has the same eye color as the one of the others!"_

"_Well as thrilling as this sounds I propose that we get back to work. The Pieces of Eden aren't going to find themselves, after all!" _

"_Shaun's right. Let's just put this aside for now. Fire up the animus,__ Rebecca."_

"…"

"_Rebecca!"_

"_What? Oh, Sorry! Just reading an article. Apparently there was another attack on an Abstergo industrial warehouse in Boston."_

"_Another one? Was it the same person as before?"_

"_Yep. 5'11 female with blonde hair tied into a long ponytail. As always no facial recognition or any DNA left behind at the crime scene and all electronic devices were mysteriously shut off just before the attack was made." _

"_So she's struck again, has she?" _

"_Yeah, looks like __**Skeleton Key**__'s on the warpath."_

"_What? Who the hell is Skeleton Key?"_

"_Oh no one, really. Just your average, everyday vigilante who's completely hell-bent on taking down criminals and evil corporations in her own one-woman war. Rumor has it that she's even in league that infamous hacker group, **Dedsec**." _

"_Dedsec? Why the hell would she work with those nutjobs?"_

"_Why, indeed? Then again why is a supposed pharmaceutical company kidnapping random people and forcing them to live through their ancestors' memories just so they can find magical artifacts and use them to try and take over the world?"_

"_Touché, Shaun. Touché" _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V: Hazel Rum

If there were two things Edward loved more than anything it was sailing the seas and rum. Lots and lots of rum. But if he had to make a choice between the two, he would say without a shadow of a doubt that his one true love was sailing. Rum was just a nice added bonus.

Sailing was perhaps the closest thing to true freedom a man could achieve. Out here in the midst of the crashing waves and salty sea air there wasn't any need to worry about the harsh realities of the world you. There was no death, no war, and no unjust laws that were forced upon by selfish and greedy Empires. There was only a man and his boat. Unless, of course, that man happened to be a pirate.

And being a pirate was something that Edward Kenway took great pleasure in. More pleasure than any drink or woman had ever managed to give him.

A satisfied grin stretched across his bearded face as he watched his crew haul in yet another hefty bounty of food, supplies, and treasure onto the Jackdaw. His quartermaster and trusted friend, Adéwalé, was as busy as always; directing and shouting the orders at the men. Most were handing off boxes full of various goods to one another while others were scattered about and repairing any damage the ship had sustained; patching holes, waxing the canons, a pirate's hard work was never done. Edward and his crew had just finished wiping out another Spanish fort when a convoy of Brigs apparently thought they were lucky enough to test their metal against the infamous Jackdaw. Edward had to stifle a laugh as he recalled how it played out. The so called _fight_ ended up turning into a complete one-sided massacre. None of the Brigs stood a sliver of a chance in hell as the Jackdaw's canons teared them apart one by one. He relished in the ensuing carnage as the enemy were torn to pieces, either by the ship's canons or by the sharks that had been lurking in the depths below looking for a free meal. However fun it was, Edward was still not without mercy. He graciously allowed those who were lucky enough to survive – which in all honesty hadn't been that very many – to board their lifeboats and row themselves to the nearest island. Meanwhile he and his men went on to enjoy their hefty plunder.

"Damn fine work, lads!" Edward cried out with a boisterous laugh ad he raised a bottle high in the air. "Eat, drink, and enjoy the spoils to your heart's content! Keep this up and we'll all be living like kings in no time!"

The men all responded with a hearty _'huzzah!'_ before they went returned to their assigned stations.

"Set a course for Nassau, Adé," Edward told his quartermaster enthusiastically. "It's been a long day and God knows I'm in desperate need of more drink in my belly. Maybe a nice looking whore too if they're not all taken."

"Aye, Captain." Adéwalé replied with an amused chuckle. "Though don't you think you should be more focused on finding Torres and his Templar ilk like you promised Master Kidd?"

"Bah!" the blonde pirate waved his hand dismissively. "That pint-sized cock needs to learn to loosen up a bit. He's stiff nearly all the time yet never attempts to relieve that stiffness into a wench's twat like he should. Honestly, why the hell he's even a pirate is something that I shall never understand."

"You best pray he doesn't find out you said such things about him, Captain," the black man said with a warning glance. "Else he might unman you with that blade of his."

"Kidd can make all the threats he wants. He doesn't scare me." Edward's voice was confident but he couldn't stop the slightest shiver that traveled up his spine as Adéwalé basically just repeated the same threat that Kidd given him when he discovered the shorter captain's "secret." It still slightly baffled him to this day that the James Kidd he had known for so many years was actually a woman named Mary Read. Though it wasn't like he had anything against it. If you could kill and hold your liquor then it honestly didn't matter to him if you were male or female.

Adéwalé obviously didn't believe him but didn't press the issue further. "Whatever you say, Captain. We'll be arriving at Nassau in a few hours so you better get comfortable while you can. It's going to be a long ride."

Grinning, Edward patted the man on the shoulder before making his way down to his private quarters. "Sounds just fine and dandy to me, Adé. I'm going to get some shuteye so wake me when we get there, will ya?" The man gave him a stiff nod before returning his attention to the ship's wheel. Yawning, Edward stretched his limbs as he opened the door to his quarters before giving it a swift kick and shutting it close. He didn't bother removing any of his clothes as he jumped straight into the bed and soon fell asleep to the boat's gentle rocks.

* * *

Nassau was the self-declared capital of the Republic of Pirates. It was an island that was teeming with every sort of criminal, lawbreaker, and pirate from every corner of the West Indies who came to partake in the day-to-day ventures of delinquency and debauchery. To the British Empire, as well as the many more civilized common folk, it was nothing more than a wretched hive of the West Indies' worst kind of scum and villainy. However, to most if not all the more "free-spirited" people, it was seen as a safe haven and even a paradise for those who wished nothing more than to escape the oppressive grasp of the Empire and live their lives in complete and total freedom. And every one of them took full advantage of that freedom and expressed it however they could; drinking themselves into a coma, beating each other to a bloody pulp, shooting seagulls with their guns, mindless sex orgies, there was truly no end to the amount of illegality that as found on Nassau. It was – in the words of one such pirate, "A confederation of drunkards and dunces, but free men!"

But to Edward, it was simply home. A place where he and his mates could lavish themselves with all of the rum and gold the pirating world had to offer. With a lazy grin plastered onto his face, he sashayed his way up the beach and into the nearby town, eager to regroup with his friends and their favorite bar. Adéwalé trailed behind him with his usual stoic façade, though if one looked hard enough they would see a slight upward twitch on his lips as he observed his captain walking with that ever-so infamous swagger he seemed to ooze wherever he went. The former slave suppressed an amused snicker as Edward quickly snatched himself a bottle of whiskey right out of the hands of a sluggish looking man who looked as if he had already drank one too many of his fair shares of alcohol. Ignoring the man's slurred cries of protest, Edward took one large swig before throwing the bottle to the ground, shattering it to pieces.

"This is the life, Adé!" Edward happily exclaimed as he stretched his arms over his head. He gave a satisfied sigh as his bones cracked with an audible _'pop'_. "Nassau, a place where any man or woman can drink, fight, and fuck to their heart's content! What more could ya ever ask for?" He slapped the man on the shoulder as they walked through the bustling sandy streets.

"Perhaps a world without Empires ruled by greed and slavery? Or a world where men aren't trying to enslave the human race to their ideas of so-called 'peace' and 'order?'" Adéwalé meant it as a joke but there was a faint trace a seriousness in his tone that made it sound anything but.

"Oh, knock it off with all that drabble will ya?" Edward said jovially as he wrapped his arm around the black man's broad shoulders. "You're in Nassau, the free man's country! Here ya don't need ta worry about any of that useless gobshite! Just grab a drink, a nice lovely wench, and have some good ole' fashioned fun like the good Lord intended!"

"Evil does not cease to exist just because we pretend it to, Kenway." Adéwalé brushed off his captain's shoulder as his stride increased, his mood dampened significantly. However Edward took his friend's sour attitude in stride, having long since been used to his friend's no-nonsense demeanor. With his grin widening, Edward caught up to his quartermaster and gave him a hard slap on the shoulder, earning him a surprised grunt and an irritated glare in return. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Adé! You really need ta learn how to loosen up! You'll never find yourself a woman if you're so damn serious all the time!" The blonde pirate let out a heartfelt laugh as Adéwalé's glare only increased in intensity.

"And how any woman is able to stand you is something I might never know." he said through gritted teeth. "Not that I ever _want_ to know." he muttered the last part to himself but Edward was able to hear him clearly, causing him to let out another boisterous laugh.

"It's all part of the Kenway charm, Adé." The black man grunted but said nothing more. No more words were exchanged between the two pirates as they walked further inland through the island's worn shantytown. Despite being one of the most dangerous islands in the West Indies, it truly was a site to behold, especially when the sun was shining at its heavenly pinnacle in the cloudless blue sky. If one were to disregard its various rundown towns and the hundreds of dangerous individuals, they would think it was just as beautiful as any other island with its tall, exquisite palm trees and chalk-white sandy beaches. Despite it being laden with crime and corruption, there was still beauty deep within its core. It was one of the reasons why Edward always loved to travel here whenever he had free time. Which – in retrospect – was pretty much _all_ the time.

Soon the two were able to spot the familiar sight of their favorite bar. Edward's grin just about reached his eyes. His elation increased dramatically when he also spotted the familiar figures of his closest friends all situated at a single table. Eager to finally spend some quality time with his mates, Edward picked up his pace with Adéwalé trailing closely behind him. However just as the two men reached the other pirates' table, a nearby commotion at the bar effectively stopped them in their tracks.

"What tha hell do ya mean yur cuttin' me off?! I'm only on my fifth bottle!" The voice was loud and feminine. It was also apparent by the owner's slurred words that the person in question was _very _intoxicated. Looking at the person, Edward couldn't help but widen his eyes at the sight of the _very_ beautiful woman who was drunkenly arguing with his good friend and Nassau's own resident beauty Anne Bonny. Sure she was quite the looker, especially with her free-flowing red hair, but the other woman's beauty made Anne look like a common street whore, as harsh as it was for Edward to think that considering that Anne was probably the nicest woman he ever had the pleasure of meeting.

He couldn't keep his eyes from wandering as he took in the woman's slender form. Her skin was lightly tan and her hair was the deepest shade of brown he had ever seen. It flowed down her back while two braids were tied on each side of her head. She was about a few inches taller than Anne but at the same time looked to be about the same age. Currently she was wearing nothing but a bra which was tight enough to accentuate her rather large and voluptuous breasts which were even larger than Anne's, leaving almost all of her back and torso uncovered. His eyes trailed down from her slim and fit waste to her wide hips and thick, bulbous posterior. Both were accented by the pair of tight rousers that stuck to her curvy body like a second skin. Finally, adorning her feet were a pair expensive looking heals that would be found on most women in the highest corners of society. All in all, Edward could say in full confidence – just not out loud – that she was probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and compared to women like Anne, _that_ was saying something.

He saw that all of his friends were also looking towards the two women with various degrees of amusement. Some were laughing outright in a drunken stupor while others were simply chuckling to themselves. Deciding to make his presence known, Edward grabbed a nearby chair and slammed it down at the table and on the hardwood floor, effectively startling everyone and causing their gazes to land on him. Wide smiles broke out as soon as they recognized him.

"Ah, there's tha man o' the hour!" Edward Thatch boisterously exclaimed as he got out of his chair and grabbed Kenway into a tight bear hug, one that he returned with equal fervor. "Kenway ya goddamned arsehole! We been waitin' a dog's age fer ya ta finally show yer ugly mug!"

"Thatch you old pile of shite! How in the nine hells have ya been?!" Edward laughed as he and Thatch ended their hug and gave each other a playful punch to the shoulder before taking respective seats. "And apologies for the late arrival, lads. Damn Spaniards are as stubborn as they are incompetent."

"You rake in any Reals off their corpses?" Charles Vane asked with a savage grin. Edward grinned right back and took a swig of his rum.

"I wouldn't be a pirate if I didn't now would I?" he puffed out his chest and raised his chin in pride.

"Ya'd be an even better pirate if you an' Kidd didn't waste so much time chasin' those damned fairy tales o' yur's." Thatch growled as he downed another bottle of rum, ignoring the heated glare that the smaller pirate captain was sending him from across the table.

Unbeknownst to anyone at the table, the young woman who had been arguing with Anne momentarily stiffened in her seat.

Edward only grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "C'mon, Thatch. Just think of all that power in our hands! With the Observatory we could see our enemies coming before they even make a move! We'd be unstoppable!"

"The only thing I _see_ is ya wastin' yur breath on more o' that nonsensical twattle!" Thatch yelled as he slammed his fist on the table, causing it shake and shift every bottle and tankard on its surface.

"Calm down, Thatch." Benjamin Hornigold said from his left as laid his hand on the man's shoulder. Thatch pushed it off before grabbing another bottle of rum. "Though he's right, Kenway. You should be spending more time stickin' it to his Highness' royal ass than looking for something out of story books."

"I think it sounds quite interesting, actually!" Stede Bonnet said in an excited manner as he took a small sip of some old-looking wine. He winced as the foul tasting liquid went down his throat. Why couldn't pirates drink tea like everyone else? "Oh, can I please go with you Edward? I would very much like to see this Observatory that you and Captain Kidd are so keen on finding!"

"Shut yer gob, Bonnet!" Thatch yelled at his crewman, who quickly shrunk back into his seat in fear. Why he was still part of the man's crew, he had no idea.

"Even if he did let ya come along, Bonnet, I highly doubt Thatch'll just release ya from your cage." James Kidd told the heavyset pirate with a smirk. He nodded to Adéwalé as he took a seat on his right before turning back to Edward. "Have any luck with finding Torres?" he asked with a knowing gaze. Edward scowled and shook his head.

"He's a slippery one, that old bastard. You'd think finding someone as ancient as him would be a damn cakewalk. But he's all but dropped off the face of the damned earth at this point." The aged Templar Grandmaster had been a real pain in Edward's ass as of late. No matter how many leads or rumors he seemed to follow, they all ended up being nothing but one big goose chase. How someone so old could move so _fast_ was something he could never figure out. If only he could find the Observatory, then that walking bag of bones would be as easy to find as a shark amongst fish. _'And I thought Assassins were supposed to be the stealthy ones,' _he thought bitterly to himself.

He was cut off from his musings as a loud belch echoed across the bar. Looking over Thatch's shoulder, he saw the brown haired woman sluggishly getting up from her seat before clumsily swaying left to right in an attempt to move. Her attempt failed spectacularly as she seemingly tripped on her own feet before plummeting straight to the wooden floor.

Being the so-called gentleman that he is, Edward thought that he shouldn't leave the woman by herself in such a rough state. Downing the rest of his rum, he got up and rounded the table before kneeling next to the woman's downed form. He took her arm and wrapped it around his neck before gently lifting her up. She let out another burp but made no move to remove her arm from his shoulders.

"You alright, lass?" he asked her with some concern. He pointedly ignored the not-so muffled laughs from his friends as he slowly trudged forward, being extra careful not to drop her.

"M'fine," she mumbled in her slurred tone. "Though I'd be better if that red haired bitch lemme have some more whiskey. Who the hell she think she is anyway?"

Edward laughed as he held her tightly by her slim waist. He noticed that her skin was very smooth for someone who was barely clothed. "That's Anne for ya. Tough as shite on the outside but sweeter than sugar on the inside. She's been runnin' that bar for years so she knows her drink well. If she says you've had too much then it's probably a good idea to listen to her."

"Bah!" The woman scoffed. "There's never such a thing as _too much_. If you can't handle your alcohol than that's your own damn fault."

"You sound pretty sober for someone who's had five bottles of whiskey." Edward observed as he set her down on a nearby empty table. The woman mumbled a 'thanks' before letting go of his shoulder and massaging her heard. Edward quickly went back to the bar and ordered a glass of water from Anne before making his way back and handing her the glass. "Here, best drink this unless you want the mother of all headaches later on."

She eagerly took the glass and chugged the whole thing in one gulp, causing Edward's eyebrows to rise up. The woman sure knew how to handle her drinks.

"That was fast," he said, somewhat surprised. "You always tend to drink a lot?"

"Only on my good days, which is usually _every _day." She replied with a grin and gave him to wink. Now that he had a chance to look, he noticed that her eyes were bloody _purple _of all things. How the hell was _that_ possible? She must have noticed him staring because she leaned her head into her right hand and gave him another wink, though this time it was less playful and more seductive. "Hmm? See something you like, Kenway?"

Shaking his head, Edward mirrored her gesture and gave her a wink of his own. "Just admiring the color of your eyes, love. I must say that I've never seen someone with purple eyes before." He paused as her question finally registered in his mind. "And I _certainly _don't remember ever telling you my name." Below the table Edward shifted his other arm and aimed his wrist towards her abdomen, ready to plunge his hidden blade deep into her stomach at a moment's notice should she prove to be a threat.

"Your buddies over there were speaking rather fondly of you earlier." She gestured back towards the table his friends were at. "Mostly about how you're always barely getting out of trouble by the skin of you balls or how you're trying to find some place called the Lavatory."

"_Observatory_," he corrected with a twitch in his eye. Just what the hell were those arseholes saying about him?

"Yeah, that." She said with a wave of her hand, not looking the least bit interested.

Edward decided to quickly change the subject. "So since you already know my name, might I have the pleasure of knowing yours?" he asked with a charming smile.

She stared at him for a few moments before turning her head to the side and staring out into the ocean. "Cana," she said. Her tone was no longer flirty and instead sounded bored, as if she were discussing a subject she had heard over a million times.

"Cana," he repeated. It certainly sounded strange. Not like any name he had heard before. "Just Cana?" he asked dubiously.

"Yep." She replied popping the 'p.' She still wasn't looking at him.

"Well, Cana, it's a pleasure to meet a lovely lass such as you." He held his hand out to her but frowned when she made no move to take it. Instead she simply continued to stare out into the ocean with that same bored gaze. Seeing as how she wasn't going to return his kind gesture, he awkwardly brought his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck. The two continued to sit in awkward silence for a few moments before Cana suddenly got up and made her way out of the bar. Startled by her sudden departure, Edward quickly removed himself from his seat and caught up to her. "Whoa, where do you think you're going?"

"Home," she replied as she kept walking. "That shitty whiskey has got me pretty worn out so I think I'm just gonna crash on my bed for the rest of the day." Her movement ceased as she looked back towards him with a small smile. Edward was about to ask what was wrong when she suddenly reached out and grabbed his cheek before placing a small kiss dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. Shocked at the sudden and unexpected display of affection, Edward didn't react as she pulled back and lightly patted his bearded cheek. "Thanks again for the help, handsome. Come find me the next time you're in town and we'll grab a drink together." With that said she took her leave and left, making her way alongside the nearby beach. Edward couldn't help but stare as she added an extra sway to her luscious hips, but that wasn't the only reason his gaze lingered on her. As soon as the sunlight hit her beautiful form, her entire body seemed to glow. Her silky brown hair absorbed the light like water in a drain, giving it a significantly lighter appearance. Her tanned skin also seemed to glow as it bathed in the sun's radiance. If it wasn't for her strange state of dress, Edward would've thought her to be an ancient sea nymph that had just emerged from the ocean.

It might have just been a trick of the light but Edward could have sworn he momentarily saw a strange ethereal light emanating from the woman's body before it disappeared as fast as it came. Deciding to test something out, Edward closed his eyes before opening them again and the entire world was suddenly bathed in a blue hue as his Eagle Vision activated. He focused his eyes towards Cana's retreating form and was struck by what he saw.

Surrounding Cana were mixed colors of gold, white, and blue that swirled around her entire body like a whirlpool, which was enough to leave him completely floored. He had owned this ability his whole life and not once had he ever seen someone with _three_ different colors all at once. Everyone he had seen had either been one color or no color at all. To say that seeing this seemingly random bar girl with not two but _three_ different colors was a little more than alarming.

Whoever she was, she was definitely something worth watching out for in the future. She wasn't an enemy but he didn't know nearly enough about her to consider her an ally either. Whichever the case may be, he knew that he would need to keep a close eye on her in the near future.

* * *

"_Mr. Garneau? It's Melanie. We just got word that another one of our R&D Departments was attacked two days ago."_

"_I see. Where was it this time? New York? Hong Kong? England?"_

"_No, sir. It was Chicago."_

"_Chicago? Are you sure?"_

"_Yes, sir. Which is why I think it's crucial that you come back to Montréal as soon as possible. There's been a lot of reports of gang wars and cyber-attacks that have been plaguing Chicago for quite some time. It's not safe for you to be there."_

"_You know I can't do that, Melanie. This is an important meeting that I cannot afford to miss despite everything that's been going on. I promise that I will return as soon as it's finished."_

"_Alright. If you say so, sir."_

"_Has our new analyst made any progress in the Kenway storyline?"_

"_Very much. In fact, we may have found something that you might be interested in seeing when you get back."_

"_Oh? What would that be?" _

"_Not what, but 'who.' It seems that Edward Kenway came into contact with a very interesting individual during his days as a pirate. We're trying to look into her more but so far we haven't found anything."_

"_So it's a woman? Not really surprising considering who we're studying."_

"_It's not just a woman, sir. There's something about her that's got a lot of the other higher ups spooked, though we don't know why."_

"_Interesting. I'll be sure to look into her when I get back. Until then make sure our analyst continues to up the progress on Edward's memories."_

"_I'll get right on it, sir. Please stay safe over there."_

"_I will. Until next time Ms. Lemay."_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI: Violet Witch

"They say there's a witch who lives in the woods."

Ratonhnhaké:ton paused in his eating and stared at his friend/neighbor Godfrey with a puzzled expression, not sure if he had heard the lumberman correctly.

"A witch?"

"Aye, a witch." Godfrey nodded at the native enthusiastically. "They say she lives in an old rundown house somewhere deep in the outskirts of the Frontier. They also say that she uses her black magic to freeze any unsuspecting travelers into blocks of ice before shattering them into thousands of tiny pieces."

"Really?" The Assassin asked with a raised eyebrow. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't a little interested in this supposed 'witch' living out in the woods. Yet at the same time he couldn't help but be skeptical. He had seen plenty of strange things that would be considered magic by some yet he had never seen any magic that could freeze an entire person solid.

"Really!" The lumberman repeated exuberantly. "In fact, I even heard one time that she-"

"Damnit Godfrey! Stop filling the boy's head with more of your nonsense!" Godfrey's brother, Terry, angrily exclaimed as he sat beside Ratonhnhaké:ton and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't listen to any of the codswallop that comes out of this muppet's head, Connor. There ain't no such thing as witches or magic."

"And how would you know?" Godfrey snarled at his brother while his fists tightened on the table. "You ain't ever seen her, yourself!"

"Neither have you, ya daft loon! Everyone knows those are just stories used to scare children into behavin'! There never has or ever _will_ be such a thing as witches or magic! Honestly, Godfrey, _you're_ supposed to be the smart one in the family!"

"Why you little knob-headed twit! I outta-"

"Hey! No fightin' in the Inn!" yelled the Homestead's resident Innkeeper, Oliver. "If you two plonkers are gonna throw fists then take it outside!"

"Fine!/Fine!" Both brothers yelled simultaneously as they both made a hasty exit from the Inn.

"Honestly, those men of ours." Godfrey's wife Catherine said from the nearby table as she shook her head in embarrassment. Beside her, Terry's wife Diane nodded in agreement. "Sometimes I wonder how it is we became smitten with them in the first place."

"Love does, indeed, work in mysterious ways." Myriam said as she snuggled up next to her husband of two weeks, Norris. The miner wrapped his hand around his wife's arms and gave her a lingering kiss, something she gladly returned in kind.

"Ain't that the truth," he agreed with a dopey smile before taking a swig of his tankard.

"How is Achilles doing, Connor?" Prudence asked happily as she ate with her husband, Warren. The farmer and his wife were still giddy at the prospect of _finally_ being able to be parents after Prudence had successfully given birth to their son, Hunter, who was currently being looked after by Ellen and her daughter, Maria.

The native smiled bitterly at the mention of his ailing mentor. "He is doing well for now but tires more and more easily as each day passes. I fear that soon he'll be bedridden for good until his time comes." The thought made him choke up a bit while tears threatened to leak from his eyes. He and Achilles may have had their many disagreements but he still viewed the old man as a father figure. He had certainly done a lot more for him in the past few years than his real father had ever done. He took a moment to blink the water out of his eyes as he fought to keep his voice steady. "Hopefully that time will not be for a long while. At least until this war is finally over."

"I'm sure the man will outlive us all, Connor." Oliver said as he cleaned a wooden cup with a rag. "I may not have known him as long as you have but I know just by looking at him that he won't go down without a fight."

"I wish I could share you're optimism, Oliver." Ratonhnhaké:ton said somberly. "But these days I'm just not so sure anymore."

"Well whatever happens, you know we'll all be here to support you, Connor." Diane said with a gentle smile as she came up and gave the Assassin a motherly hug with Catherine doing to same moments later. This time Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't try to fight the tears as they escaped his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered. He honestly didn't know what he would do if he didn't have such kind and amazing people by his side.

* * *

Ratonhnhaké:ton walked out of the Inn as soon as he finished his meal and made his way towards Godfrey and Terry's lumber mill. Godfrey's rumors about a supposed witch living in the woods had sparked his interest and he was hoping to ask the lumberman more about it even if it did turn out to be completely fabricated. He had always been a fan of the occasional tall tale ever since he was a young boy. He remembered fondly that his mother would always tell him such stories before he went to sleep. It always did help him sleep better.

He couldn't remember the last time he had slept so soundly.

The Lumber Mill came into view and Ratonhnhaké:ton picked up his pace. Although he meant no ill will by it, he wished that Terry wouldn't be there when he asked Godfrey about the witch. The man was nice in his own way but he really didn't feel like breaking up another fight between the two brothers. He honestly didn't know why the two fought as much as they did. Weren't brothers supposed to lookout for and protect each other?

He strode up to the mill and was thankful when he found only Godfrey currently working the saw. The man soon took notice of the approaching Assassin and gave him a joyful wave.

"Connor! Good to see ya again!" Ratonhnhaké:ton noticed with slight amusement that the man had a black eye. Obviously the result of his latest squabble with his brother. "What can I do for ya, lad?" he asked curiously.

"I was actually hoping to hear more about the rumors concerning the witch in the woods." Godfrey's good eye widened comically and before Ratonhnhaké:ton had a chance to react, the man grabbed his hand in both of his.

"Finally! Someone who doesn't think I'm crazy!" he yelled happily before quickly pulling the native into his mill. "Terry went on back to his home so he won't be here to bother us." The man went and grabbed two chair before sitting them down by a nearby fireplace. The two mean situated themselves into their seats before Godfrey eagerly began his tale. "Now I only know what I know from passing rumors and the occasional tale from the city drunks so what I'm about to tell you might sound like complete twattle but please listen to what I have to say before you make any judgements."

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded before leaning forward and clasping his hands together. Even if Godfrey's story was completely made up, he would never judge the man harshly.

"Now like I said earlier, the witch supposedly lives deep in the unexplored territories of the Frontier. Some say that she lives in a rundown, abandoned house while others say she simply lives off the land. Hunters, poachers, and even a few of the King's soldiers who felt brave enough to try and kill the witch went out and searched for her but for some reason they all disappeared were never heard from again. Those who were brave enough to look for _those_ sorry sods said that they never found anything except for a bunch of destroyed chunks of ice. Now this might not sound strange to you considering it's just ice but those who tried to find the missing hunters and soldiers have said that the chunks of ice were colored a deep _purple_."

This made Ratonhnhaké:ton's eyes widen. _Purple_ ice? He had never heard of such a thing before.

"Not only that but some have also claimed to see people frozen entirely solid. Almost like the statues they used to carve in ancient Greece. They say their expressions were frozen in states of pure terror and fear." Godfrey took a shaking breath as he rubbed his hands together near the fire. "The thing is, it's not just happening during the winter either. People have also said that they've seen purple ice melting off of tree trunks during the spring and summer."

_Now _Ratonhnhaké:ton was definitely interested. Who could this witch be? And how was she able to perform such impossible feats? Could it be possible that her powers were somehow related to the Apple of Eden?

"Have any of these rumors you've heard happen to describe what she looks like?" It was meant as an innocent question but deep down Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn't deny that he was _very_ eager to know everything he could about this witch. He also couldn't deny that a small part of him wanted to try and find her. _If_ she happened to be real, that is.

Which is why he was a little disappointed when Godfrey should his head negatively. "Unfortunately, no. Obviously she's a woman but that's all I've heard in the way of appearances. She could be a damn near century old for all we know. Why?" he asked, curious to know what the native was trying to get at.

Ratonhnhaké:ton figured that he should simply tell Godfrey his reasons considering that he might find out anyway. "I wish to try and find her. At least to know if she is, indeed, real or not."

The bulky man widened his eyes. "_Find_ her? Don't get me wrong boy, I'm just as curious to know if she really does exist but are you sure that's such a good idea? The last foolish bunch that tried winded up dead and you don't even have a clue as to where she might even be."

"You said that she was residing somewhere deep in the Frontier. I will simply start my search there and go on from there."

"Yes but like I said, those were simply rumors! We don't even know if she's still out there!"

"Regardless, that is where you said the soldiers went missing. It may not be much but it's a good start. If I don't find anything out there then I will simply continue my search elsewhere. Perhaps in Boston or New York. If I still wind up with nothing then we can consider the matter closed; there is no witch and everything you heard were indeed nothing but tall tales."

"If you're so sure then I guess I can't stop ya," Godfrey sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Just be careful out there, ya here? Last thing I need is to tell everyone you've gone and kicked the bucket because you went out chasing stories."

"You know I will, Godfrey." Ratonhnhaké:ton gave the man an amused smirk before standing up. "And let us try and keep this between us. There's no need to frighten the whole Homestead with rumors of witches lurking about."

"Ain't that the truth?!" Godfrey said with a laugh as he slapped the younger man on the shoulder before making his way out of the mill. "Well, I best be getting back to work. That wood ain't gonna chop itself, ya know! Good luck with yer witch hunt, Connor! Oh, and if she does turn out to be real, let me know so that I can rub it in Terry's ugly mug!" His boisterous laughter echoed throughout the mill even as he went outside.

Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head at the lumberman's antics before he too made his way outside. Pulling up his Assassin's hood in order to block out the frigid wind, the young native trekked through the deep snow towards Achilles' manor. The weather was unfortunately too rough to travel in at the moment but Ratonhnhaké:ton made sure to start his search as soon as it let up. Though he knew he should've been more occupied with hunting the rest of his father's Templar brothers rather than chasing supposed flights of fancy, the curiosity of Godfrey's witch story was simply just too much for him to pass up. Plus both the Templars and the British had been rather quiet as of late so he figured he had some time to spare before returning to his Creed duties. He was still eager to find and put a knife through Charles Lee's throat. His thirst for vengeance hadn't lessened in the slightest and he doubted it ever would until every last Templar was put into the ground, his father included. Though deep down, he held onto the tiniest sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to dirty his hands with the blood of his last remaining family member. The man may have been the Templar Grandmaster and therefore indirectly responsible for the murder of his mother, but he _was_ still his father whether Ratonhnhaké:ton liked it or not. Only time would tell what may ultimately have to do in the future.

But first, he had a witch to find.

* * *

The harsh winter weather had finally managed to die down the next day and Ratonhnhaké:ton had wasted no time in setting out for the Frontier.

The journey had taken a little over a few hours with few stops in between but soon enough Ratonhnhaké:ton had managed to arrive in the nearby town of Concord. As he rode through the snowy streets he noticed with some sadness in his eyes that the people still hadn't managed to recover from the British assault despite it being nearly several months later. A few buildings were still missing a few chunks of their structures as well as some large craters of dirt left over from cannon fire still littering the main roads. The overall population hadn't seemed as nearly as large as it had been before the attack. More innocent and unnecessary casualties of a seemingly never-ending war. It was a great shame, really. He had visited the town quite a few times before the British had invaded and he was always happy to see the colonial people peacefully living their lives far from the deadly reaches of war. Everyone had looked so happy and carefree back then. Now there was only sadness. The town and its people were now shadows of their former selves and it was all thanks to a war brought on by an unjust Empire. Would the violence ever truly end?

Deciding that going along on foot was the best option, Ratonhnhaké:ton brought his horse over to a nearby stable before unloading his belongings. He figured that since he would be starting his search in the more forested areas he should travel light. With bait and snares for hunting along with a few pouches of bullets and a quiver full of freshly made arrows, Ratonhnhaké:ton knew that he was more than prepared to brave the harsh wilderness for more than a few days. With one last check of his inventory Ratonhnhaké:ton gave himself a firm nod before sprinting off into the snow-covered forest.

It took him awhile but soon he was lucky enough to find an abandoned cave that was good enough to set up camp in. With a campfire hastily put together and his bedroll unfurled, the native made his way back outside and before he began ascending the nearest tree, eager to finally start his search.

* * *

A few days had passed and sadly Ratonhnhaké:ton had no luck in locating the witch, nor was he able to find any traces of purple ice. He made sure to extend his search range in a mile wide radius around his camp. Using his superb tracking skills he was extra careful to look behind every tree, under every rock, and near every river and pond the forest had to offer but sadly his search had come up absolutely fruitless.

Maybe Terry had been right. Maybe the witch _was_ nothing more than some wild colonial fantasy. Should he just return home and inform Godfrey that his brother had been right? That the witch had never existed in the first place? The man would undoubtedly be disappointed, especially since he wouldn't be able to get one over on his brother. Spirits knew that the one thing Godfrey hated more than anything was proving his brother right. No doubt he would have to break up yet _another_ fight that was sure to ensue. He could already feel a headache coming on just thinking about it. Sometimes he really wondered if leaving the village was the right idea.

Night had already fallen upon the valley and the snowy weather had once again picked up. Since the blizzard would make it for more difficult to track, Ratonhnhaké:ton had decided that his search had gone on long enough for the night. With nothing other than vague locations to go on the native gave a sigh of disappointment as he headed back towards his campsite. Almost an entire week of no leads or anything resembling a clue as to where the witch might be. At this point he may as well just call of the search, pack his things and head back home. It was obvious that there was nothing out here worth finding and simply prolonging the search would just be a waste of time. Not that this entire thing _hadn't _been a waste of time, though he wouldn't dare tell that to Godfrey.

_Pop!_

Ratonhnhaké:ton snapped his head towards the unexpected noise. He knew that sound from anywhere. He heard it more times than he would've liked during his time in the war. The discharge of a musket shot. That in itself was more than a little unnerving considering that he was miles from the nearest town as well as any known hunting regions.

Not wasting any time, Ratonhnhaké:ton jumped and maneuvered through the forest's tree branches. As he got closer towards the sound's source, his ears continued to pick up more musket shots as well as the pained and fear-ridden screams of men. Soon he was greeted by the sight of many British soldiers scurrying in the opposite direction; their fearful cries echoed across the valley as they quickly stomped their way through the thick snow. He noticed with some alarm that most of them didn't have any weapons and those that were armed were too busy running for their lives.

Seeing more soldiers coming his way, he quickly leapt onto a nearby tree and hid himself behind its thick trunk. Peaking over the edge, he was disturbed to see that some of them were missing their arms while one or two had to be carried because they were missing either one or both of their legs. More musket and flintlock shots echoed in the distance as more injured soldiers continued pouring out of the forest. What monstrosity could possibly inspire so much fear and horrible injuries upon these redcoats?

His answer soon came in the form of a sudden rumble in the earth. It was low at first but it only seemed to increase as each minute passed by. Ratonhnhaké:ton grit his teeth as he grasped the tree's branches tightly, doing his best to keep his balance. The intensity was so great that it was enough to shake the snow off of the other surrounding trees and cause the retreating soldiers to lose their balance and topple onto the ground. However not a single one of them were given the chance to get back up as a wall of ice suddenly emerged from the ground and consumed all of the redcoats in a violent freezing tidal wave. Ratonhnhaké:ton didn't even have a chance to comprehend what was happening before he lost his balance and fell around ten feet onto the hard and snow-covered ground.

Minutes passed by before the surrounding area instantly became still again. The world spun and Ratonhnhaké:ton groaned in pain as he put a hand to his head. Standing up on shaking legs, he leaned himself on the nearby tree he had just fallen off of and rubbed his temples in an attempt to gain his bearings. When he looked up his entire body became petrified as he stared at the scene in front him with wide eyes. A shiver passed through his entire body but it wasn't from the cold.

It was like a picture straight out of the Ninth Circle of Hell itself. Every soldier in front of him had been completely frozen solid. Most were still lying on the ground while some had attempted to get up, only to be left permanently hunched over and kneeling on the ground. Even from where he was standing the native could see their expressions of fear and terror still etched onto their faces. He even saw a few that had been frozen in mid-run, obviously having tried to escape only to fail miserably. The most disturbing thing was the fact that they didn't even look dead. Even through the ice he could plainly see that the bodies were still very much fresh. It was as if time had simply stopped around them rather than being cased in ice. However, what caught his attention the most was the color of the ice. It was pure _purple_.

Suddenly his entire body felt like it had been thrown into a river and he found that he could move any of his limps except for his head. Looking down, he was alarmed to see that he had been almost completely encased in the same purple ice. Thrash and struggle as he might, he couldn't find the strength to break out of the ice. Which meant that he was stuck here until someone was lucky enough to find him.

"Judging from your uniform you're obviously not one of those annoying pests who keep trying to kill me."

Ratonhnhaké:ton's head stiffened as a feminine voice reached his ears. It was deep and sultry but he could also sense a threatening undertone to it. He tried to turn his head as far as he could in an attempt to see the speaker but couldn't do to some of the ice enclosing his neck. Whoever this woman was, she was standing directly behind him. What made him more anxious was the fact that he hadn't even heard her approach. If there was one thing Ratonhnhaké:ton prided himself on, it was having sharp enough senses to see and hear anyone coming from a mile away. Yet somehow this woman had been able to instantaneously sneak up behind him like some sort of ghost.

"Who are-" he was cut off as his mouth was suddenly frozen shut. A strange warmth pressed into the side of his hooded face and he suppressed another shiver as the woman's silky voice whispered into his ear.

"I'll be asking the questions, and depending on your answers you may or may not share the same fate as those fools over there." He didn't have to see her face to know that she was gesturing towards the frozen redcoats.

Seeing as how he couldn't really do anything to refuse her, he gave the woman a simple nod of his head before the ice covering his mouth vanished into thin air. He heard the snow crunch beside him and soon his vision was filled with the sight of a _very _beautiful woman dressed in strange blue and white clothes that clung to her figure and greatly accentuated her large breasts and voluptuous body. Her generous curves greatly reminded him of the hourglass that Achilles kept on his desk. Her waist was thin and her hips looked wide enough to bear dozens of strong and healthy children. Her thighs also held an alluring thickness to them and he could practically see them through the dark and very thin stockings she worse on her legs. Her strange garbs were so thin that it practically looked like a second skin, yet despite their thinness she didn't seem to be bothered at all by the winter cold. Her soft, silky-looking hair was a rich and deep violet color and flowed down her exposed shoulders and back like a waterfall down a mountain. She also wore a white hair band with two perfectly tied bows hanging off of the sides of her head. Her smooth and flawless skin was a perfectly healthy white but what caught his attention the most were her eyes. They were bright red like polished rubies and practically glowed in the dark.

"Now then," her husky voice brought him back to reality as her blood red eyes glared into his. Her expression was currently set into a frown as she cocked her hips to the side and crossed her arms under breasts. Even though Ratonhnhaké:ton was never one to openly stare at women, even he couldn't stop the small blush that crept onto his face as he momentarily looked at the way her large breasts perked up at the movement. Thankfully the woman didn't seem to notice his staring. "Let's start with something simple; such as who you are and why you're here."

The Assassin took a calming breathe before answering. "My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton," he wasn't surprised when the woman's eyes narrowed in confusion. Almost everyone he met tended to react the same way whenever he told them his real name. "However most people simply refer to me as Connor."

"Connor," she nodded in satisfaction. It was a much simpler and easier name to pronounce. "Well then, _Connor_, care to tell me why someone such as yourself is travelling alone in this neck of the woods? Don't tell me that you're also here to kill me because I'm afraid it will _very_ poorly for you if you are. Just look at that sorry lot over there." She nodded back towards the frozen redcoats.

"I am not here to kill you," he told her truthfully. Her expression told him that she didn't believe him in the slightest but then again it wasn't like he was expecting her to. "I was told rumors of a witch who was supposedly residing in these woods and came to see if they were true. Obviously it appears that they are, indeed, true."

Out of all the reactions he was expecting, he certainly didn't expect her to start laughing. It was low and was more of a chuckle than a laugh but its meaning was still the same. He also couldn't help but somewhat enjoy the sound despite it being meant as a mocking gesture. "A witch? Is that what they're calling me now? I must say that it is certainly sounds more fitting than being referred to as a 'demon' or 'monster.'"

Ratonhnhaké:ton was surprised. She had been called a demon? He could tell just by looking at her that she was probably the furthest thing from a demon as one could get. "You don't look like any sort of demon to me."

"Really?" she asked with a playful smirk. She raised her hand and brought her thumb and middle finger together. "What about _now_?"

A loud _'snap'_ echoed throughout the forest and Ratonhnhaké:ton's face turned ashen white with horror when he saw the frozen soldiers instantaneously break apart into hundreds of small icy chunks before they suddenly disappeared into a glitter of light.

"As if they never even existed," the woman let out another chuckle as she turned back towards the still frozen Assassin. "Now we have the whole place to ourselves." She gave him a seductive wink for effect.

He ignored it entirely. Despite his body being encased in ice, he could feel it heating as anger coursed through his veins. "Why did you do that?!" he shouted in rage, disgusted with her blatant display of brutality. She raised an eyebrow at him but otherwise didn't react to his enraged state. "They were injured, unarmed and didn't pose a threat to you! You even had them incapacitated! What reason could you possibly have to kill those men?!"

"You mean besides the fact that they were trying to kill _me_?" She asked as if she were speaking to a child. "They were going to return with more men eventually. I simply didn't give them the chance to do so."

"You still didn't need to kill them!" He couldn't believe this woman! She talked about killing as if it were nothing but a simple chore!

She scowled at him as her eyes hardened. "Am I seriously being judged on the methods of killing by an _Assassin_ of all people?"

_That _managed to break Ratonhnhaké:ton out of his angered state as he stared at the woman in open mouthed astonishment. How did she know he was an Assassin?

"Oh don't give me that look," she waved her hand at him. "The hood and white robes gave it away easily enough. I knew who you were the entire time. I was simply asking to be polite. And it isn't like you and your pesky little Order have done a very a good job of keeping yourselves inconspicuous over the years either."

He didn't know how to respond. How he _could_ respond. This mysterious woman with some kind of supernatural ice-based powers knew who he and the Assassins were, and yet he hadn't even been aware of her existence until about a week ago. And what did she mean when she said 'over the years?' She didn't look any older than he was. Had she'd known about the Assassins longer than he had?

Just who _was_ this woman?

He was cut out of his musings as the purple ice that encased his body suddenly disappeared into thin air, allowing him the freedom to finally move his limbs.

"Now I believe that it would be best for you to run along and-" she didn't get to finish her sentence as the native grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her body into the very tree he had previously been trapped against. His forearm was pinned tightly against her chest – or more specifically, pressed into her _very _ample breasts, not that he was aware – effectively cutting her off from escaping while the sharpened edge of a blade pressed against the skin of her neck, nearly drawing blood. "Really? I had thought we were passed all the unnecessary violence." Her lips drew into a pout as she stared up at his taller hooded form.

"The only violence that was unnecessary was your own." He told her dangerously. His voice was so low that it was practically a growl and it sent shivers down her spine. It was also close enough for it to echo in her ears. "Now it's my turn to ask _you_ questions and depending on your answers you may or may not have the pleasure of feeling my blade pierce your throat." He inched said blade closer into her skin for emphasis, drawing blood.

Instead of showing even an ounce of fear, she simply giggled seductively and gave him another saucy wink. "Mmm~ if it's as good you're making it sound then I certainly wouldn't mind having your _blade_ in my throat."

"You find this amusing?" Either he didn't get the intended innuendo or ignored it entirely. "I could end your life in the blink of an eye if I chose to do so. I _should_ considering that you just murdered dozens of unarmed men."

"Oh please, this again?" Her demeanor went back from seductive to annoyed in an instant. "They were your enemies too. Don't pretend like you haven't already killed hundreds of them. In fact, you should even be thanking me for helping you dispose of them."

"There's a difference to the killing I do. I do it because I am left with little choice. And I _do not_ actively kill those who have willingly surrendered. Unlike you."

"And I suppose you think that's what makes you better than me?" She rolled her eyes. "As I've said before, they simply would've been back with more men. Those fools spawn like roaches so it's not like anyone will notice if they're gone. And have you forgotten what they're doing to the people of this land? To _your _people? All under the orders of some arrogant King who doesn't even reside in the same country as his soldiers?"

He flinched as if physically struck. While he couldn't deny her words held truth to them, though that still didn't justify her actions. "Even so, that does not give you the right to just butcher defenseless people."

"Not even when Charles Lee and his Templar ilk did the exact same thing to your village? To your _mother_?"

Ratonhnhaké:ton's breathing halted. His body froze like it was trapped in her ice all over again.

This time the woman couldn't suppress the pained gasp that escaped her lips as the native's hidden blade buried itself deep into her shoulder, causing a trail of blood to flow down her arm and drip into the snow.

"_How do you know about that?_" His voice was barely above a whisper and it looked as though he were seconds away from ending the woman's life right then and there. He pressed his arm deeper into her chest, making it harder for her to breathe. She winced and gritted her teeth as the blade continued to graze against her muscle but it did nothing to stop her from uttering the next words that practically knocked the Assassin's soul from his body.

"_Because I was there. I was there when it happened." _

He didn't move. He didn't breathe. He did nothing but stare blankly into her pain-filled eyes. He may as well have been completely frozen like those soldiers had been moments before. He did nothing but _stare_. He was so out of touch with the world at the moment that he didn't even notice the woman putting her hands on his arm and pushing the blade out of her shoulder. He didn't take notice of the wound closing up by itself moments after his blade was removed. He didn't notice anything until the woman's gloved hand gently placed itself against his cheek, snapping him out of his shocked stupor. His eyes latched onto hers and he was confused to see that they were filled with sadness and regret.

"I was only a little girl when it happened," her voice was so _soft_ that it almost enough to touch his heart. "I ran away from the orphanage I lived in and got lost near your village. My magic hadn't developed yet so I could do nothing but sit and stand by as an innocent little boy was strung up by his neck and knocked unconscious while his home burned to the ground." Her blood red eyes became glossy as she swallowed a lump in her throat. "I could do nothing as his mother died right in front of him."

"_Who are you?" _his quivering lips whispered beneath his hood. He _had _to know. She was there when it happened. He just _had to know_.

"My name is Ultear," the woman – _Ultear_ – whispered to him as she clasped her other gloved hand against his opposite cheek. "And I know what it's like to lose a mother."

No more words were spoken between the two as they stared into each other's eyes under the midnight snow; Ratonhnhaké:ton's still empty gaze against Ultear's saddened eyes. They all but ignored the cold flakes that landed on their bodies and the bright rays of the partially obscured moon that only seemed to shine down on them. Minutes that felt like hours passed by and the two sole occupants of the forest still said nothing. Silence rained down on the entire area with the only source of noise being the slight winter breeze that pushed and swayed Ultear's purple hair.

The pressure from Ultear's chest dissipated, allowing her to breathe more freely as Ratonhnhaké:ton spun around with his back facing towards her and fists tightly clenched at his sides. His shoulders were shaking and it looked like it was taking every ounce of his self-control to not lash out at the slightest noise, but it soon disappeared as quickly as it came. His shoulders deflated, his fists unclenched, and he let out a drawn out sigh but still remained in the same spot as his feet removed to move.

Ultear didn't make a move either as she stared worriedly at the native's back. She knew she probably shouldn't do anything that might set him off but the overwhelming feeling of guilt she was feeling soon overrode her common sense. Hesitantly she took a step forward and reached out a hand towards his shoulder. "Connor-?"

"The British will surely send more men in the morning. You should leave now while you have the chance to do so." She flinched at his emotionless tone as her hand froze in midair. "I will also not inform anyone of your existence, so there is no need to worry about your secret being revealed."

"I'm worried about _you_." The words were whispered and came out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. However he gave no indication that he heard her as his feat finally began to move. Ultear's hand dropped to her side as she watched him slowly make his way through the snow. She wanted desperately to follow after him yet could not will herself to move. Her gaze simply remained transfixed on his back until it disappeared behind the distant foliage of trees.

A single tear escaped from her eye and dropped into the snow, leaving a barely noticeable imprint. A gust of wind followed soon after before the entire area became deserted; leaving nothing but complete silence to envelope the forest.

* * *

"_Holy shit. Lucy would've flipped if she saw this."_

"_Crude language aside, I can't say I'd disagree with you."_

"_Whoa, okay hold up. One: who the hell was that and two: what the fuck did I just see?"_

"_I think that was another one of those weird women with magical abilities that Lucy was ranting about back in Italy. Kinda similar to the ones Altair and Ezio came into contact with." _

"_Except this one has neither white hair nor blue eyes."_

"_Right, but did you see the tits on her?! Jesus, I'd kill just to have mine look half that size!"_

"_Charming, Rebecca. Very charming."_

"_Hey, don't think I didn't catch you staring, Shaun! You were practically drooling over her!"_

"_I did no such thing! Are you insinuating that I'm some kind of pervert?!"_

"_Well your wandering eyes certainly did!"_

"_GUYS! You still didn't answer my question! What the fuck did we just see?!"_

"_Something that is beyond our realm of understanding, Son."_

"_Dad? Where the hell have you been?" _

"_Busy calling in extra help. I believe that she'll be able to help us with what you just saw in the Animus."_

"_She? Who did you call?" _

"_Someone who's been very eager to see you for a long time." _

"_Dad, please stop with the riddles. Who the hell did you call?"_

"_Why don't you ask her yourself?"_

"_Hello, Desmond."_

"_Holy shit, YOU?!"_

"_I'm so glad you're okay."_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII: Blue Cloak

When one was so high up in air, they could almost forget they were living in a world that was tearing itself apart.

That was certainly how Arno felt as he stood atop the roof of the Notre Dame. It was mid-afternoon and the cool Fall breeze blew roughly against his blue cloak as he stared down at the city of Paris below with its countless buildings seemingly expanding forever onward in every direction and into the horizon. Even from this height he could still here the faint protesting cries of the city's citizens, the occasional discharge of a rifle, as well as the usual hustle and bustle of everyday city life. It seems it was true when they said that Paris never slept. It had been like this ever since the end of the American Revolution in 1783. France had lost a great deal in aiding the free colonies of the New World and now its people were suffering their own revolution. So much war in so little time. It made Arno sick.

Almost as sick as he felt the day he watched his father die right in front of him. His was but a child back then. A child who had witnessed his first death too early in life and was forced to grow up quickly because of it. Luckily he hadn't been alone. Elise had been there by his side from the beginning. Sadly their time together had significantly lessened due to their occupations, but he didn't care about any of that. He just wished she had been there with him now. Unfortunately she was off who-knows-where doing God-knows-what and he was once again left to his own devices; killing Templars, hunting for ancient and powerful relics and being reduced to the Assassin Council's errand boy. Oh how he hated those bickering old buffoons with a glowing passion.

Heaving out a sigh, Arno positioned himself at the edge of one of Notre Dame's towers and proceeded to soar through the air in a single leap. He landed at the bottom of a nearby hay bale with the grace of a cat before quickly stepping out into the street, ignoring the shocked and bewildered looks from nearby pedestrians. Breaking out into a sprint, Arno swiveled and maneuvered his way through the crowded streets before once again taking to the rooftops. He spent the rest of the day letting his legs and arms carry him as he ran and climbed throughout the city's never-ending forest of buildings.

* * *

Night had fallen as Arno soon found himself in a nearby cemetery on the outskirts of the city. Both his legs and arms were extremely sore after a long day of nonstop climbing and running and he decided that a bit of peace and quiet was the best way to recover his lost strength. What better way to find peace and quiet than at a cemetery? A little morbid, sure, but hey, at least no one was around to bother him right?

He was thrilled when he found a seemingly solitary fountain that was walled off next to a nearby tavern. Not only that, the fountain was also full of what looked like fresh water. Even with his hood down and the cool night breeze blowing in his face, Arno was still feeling quite sweaty in his many layers of clothing. Not to mention that his throat was very much parched and dry. Walking up, he knelt down and collected some water in his cupped hands and splashed it onto his face. Relishing in the feeling of the cool wind blowing against his soaked face, Arno repeated the action a few more times before bringing some water to his lips and taking a nice long sip.

"_Ahh~!"_

The unexpected sound of a woman moaning made him freeze momentarily in place with his hands still cupped at his lips. Carefully he turned his head both left and right in search of the voice's owner but didn't see anything save for a few nearby gravestones and an empty bench that was situated at the stone wall. He waited a few seconds longer for the voice to pop up again but nothing happened. Shrugging his shoulders, Arno deduced that it was probably a passing street prostitute and proceeded dip his hands back in the water for another drink. He took a sip-

"Ahh~!"

-and nearly jumped a foot in the air as the water in the fountain suddenly started to shift and swirl. Quickly retrieving his pistol from his holster, Arno raised the weapon at the fountain with a shaking arm as he unsheathed his sword with his other; ready to strike down whatever the hell was coming out of the fountain. The water continued to lazily swirl on its own for a few moments before it seemingly _jumped_ out of the fountain's base and began to take form. Arno stared at the self-moving liquid with a mix of fascination and fear as his gun continued to shake in his tight grip. He was about to unload his entire clip into the water before it started expanding into the air and shaping itself. The liquid became less transparent and started to harden into a solid. Arno's eyes widened as the liquid soon took the shape of a person. When the transformation was done, Arno couldn't stop his jaw from falling open.

The water had definitely taken the form of a human that much was certain. The only problem was the _kind _of form it chose; which just so happened to be a female who was almost as tall as he was with long, free-flowing hair that was even bluer than the ocean. But what shocked Arno the most was that she was completely _naked_. As in, he could literally see _everything_; from her large swells of her perky breasts down to her thick, creamy thighs. The cool night air caused her darkened nipples to protrude quite a bit as her ample bosom jiggled with the slightest bit of movement. Her waist was thin and her hips were large, no doubt connected to an equally large and ample set of cheeks that made up her glorious backside. He also couldn't help but momentarily stare the clean shaven lips of her most private area. Her skin was pale enough to almost mimic the moon while also remaining clear enough to not hold any blemishes or scars. Finally, a pair of wide topaz-colored eyes belonging to a small and equally pale face stared back at him with open-mouthed shock.

Arno was so bewildered by the fact that a fountain of water had transformed itself into what was quite possibly the most _beautiful_ woman he had ever seen that he didn't notice both his weapons slipping his grasp and hit the ground with a hard _thud._ The noise quickly snapped him back to reality as he quickly bent down to retrieve his weapons while the water woman quickly took advantage of the distraction and covered her sensitive areas with her arms.

Arno still said nothing as he re-holstered his weapons. He honestly didn't know _what_ he could say. He obviously wanted to know what kind of witchcraft this woman used to turn herself to water but he felt that now wasn't the right time to ask such things. _Especially _since she was still very much naked and shivering as the cold air blew against her exposed body. Deciding that questions could wait for later, Arno quickly disrobed his Assassin's cloak before stepping forward and handing it towards the woman. He also made sure to turn his head the other way so that he wouldn't be tempted to stare again.

"You'll freeze to death if you don't clothe yourself. Here, put this one." He stepped closer with his robe outstretched, still being careful to not look. "It's not much but it'll at least keep the cold air off your skin."

A few moments of silence passed and the robe had still not left his arms. Arno was about to just put the damn thing on the woman himself until hands suddenly became lighter. There was a ruffle of clothing and he could tell without looking that she was now wearing his offered robe.

"Thank you," her voice came out as a soft whisper but Arno was able to hear it clearly. _By the Lord, even her voice is breathtaking!_ He thought as his heart rate began to increase. With a nervous gulp he turned his gaze back to her and immediately had to keep himself from staring His thin robe had really done wonders to her body as it tightly clung to her wet form like a second skin and practically emphasized every curve she possessed. The fact that her breasts were almost popping out of the collar didn't help either. She hid her head beneath his hood but he was still able to see her eyes peeking under the beak-shaped edge along with some strands of her blue hair that fell down over her chest. Her arms were still wrapped tightly around her torso but she at least wasn't shivering any more to his relief.

An awkward silence fell upon the duo. The woman kept her eyes on the ground while a light blush tinged her pale face, not once did she try to look back up at the Assassin standing no more than five feet from her. Arno, meanwhile, simply scratched the back of his neck while his roamed everywhere except in her general direction. He honestly didn't know what he was supposed to do. He had offered the woman his robe, but now what? Should he tell her just to keep it and return home? No, he wouldn't do that. This woman obviously looked lost and the last thing he wanted to do was leave her alone and defenseless in the middle of a cemetery in the dead of night. There was no telling what sort of disgusting and creepy individuals were roaming around these streets at this time of night.

Though the bigger question that was currently plaguing his mind was who the hell _was_ this woman? Or more specifically _what_ was she? She obviously couldn't be human with how she had just transformed from pure water. No human he knew of was capable of doing something like that. Though he had heard from the Assassin Council that there were rumors of a Witch capable of manipulating ice who supposedly aided the Colonial Master Assassin Connor during the American Revolution. However none of them had been able to confirm if they were true or not.

Catching movement in the corner of his eye, Arno turned and saw that the woman had moved to sit over on the nearby stone bench. With a hunched back, she pulled her legs to her chest and leaned her head on her knees, effectively making herself look like a small robed ball. Unsure of what to do, Arno shrugged to himself before walking over and seating himself on the opposite end. The woman didn't pay him any attention and simply remained silent and curled up. Figuring that the she wasn't going to be the one to initiate a conversation, Arno decided to bite the bullet and spoke his first words.

"So…" he drawled awkwardly. _Smooth Dorian_. "Is it a habit of yours to go for a swim in random fountains or was it just another one of _those_ nights?"

The woman didn't react or move a muscle. In fact, the tense awkward silence only appeared to have doubled.

_Lord strike me down. Why am I like this?_ He mentally questioned with a blank look. Figuring that that things couldn't get any worse, Arno decided to press on. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. I, myself, like to fancy a swim every now and then. And I can't remember the number of times I've partaken in drunken escapades. In fact, there was one time where I was _so_ intoxicated that the only thing I remembered was waking up in a prison cell wearing nothing but my trousers and women's lipstick. The warden damn near pissed himself with laughter."

The silence continued. Arno wondered if he should just make himself scarce and save whatever dignity he had left. _So much for being a conversationalist _he thought bitterly.

A small sound penetrated the silent atmosphere. Arno looked over and was stunned to see the woman's shoulders shaking. Had he made her cry? Guilt and self-loathing coursed through him. _Of course _she was crying! What the hell was he thinking? He should've just left as soon as he gave her the robe. He had only been trying to help and instead he made her _cry_. Now he desperately wished that Elise was here. She was the one who handled these kinds of things better than he did. He had never been the kind to comfort people.

However his ears perked when the noise increased in volume. His eyes widened when he heard that it wasn't a cry she was letting out but a _giggle_ of all things. She was _laughing_.

It started out light and small at first but soon her giggles were almost loud and hard enough to be considered full-blown laughs. Her head had risen off her legs and one of her hands covered her mouth as she attempted to stifle herself, which failed and only seemed to cause her to laugh harder. Her eyes were screwed shut and he could faintly see a few tears escaping her closed lids. Arno didn't know why but hearing her laugh made something equivalent to butterflies flutter in his stomach.

A few minutes passed before her laughs began to die down. Her shoulders weren't shaking as hard though they still trembled slightly due to the small giggles that were still managing to escape her lips. Finally, her giggles ceased along with her trembling and for the second time since they met, her deep blue eyes met his and Arno could say at the very moment that he was the luckiest man in the world to be on the receiving end of the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Her rosy cheeks were perked up and her face still held a faint blush due to her laughter. Her lips moved and Arno's ears were once again graced with her breathtaking voice.

"You have no idea-" she breathed. "-how much you remind me of someone I used to know."

"Oh?" he raised an inquisitive eyebrow as his lips formed a playful smirk. "And what, pray tell, about me reminds so you so much about this person?"

"Well, he also had a habit of losing his clothes at the worst times." Her smile dimmed and her eyes took on a more melancholy look, though Arno was too caught up in his excitement to notice.

"Did he now?" he let out a laugh of his own. "No doubt this lucky fellow was a lover of yours, wasn't he?"

Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say because her mood immediately reverted back to sadness. More tears fell from her eyes as she stared back at the ground. "No, he wasn't." she muttered. "No matter how much I so desperately wanted him to be."

Guilt once again ate at Arno's insides. Damnit, why did he have such terrible luck any woman who wasn't Elise? "I-I'm sorry, love." Hesitantly, he scooted to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I hadn't meant to bring up any unsavory memories."

"It's fine," she whispered. Her tone didn't make it sound fine at all. Gently, she clasped his hand into her own and brought it off her shoulder. "You didn't know. I try not to think about it too much but sometimes it just doesn't go away no matter how much I want it to."

Though his hand had left her shoulder, he noticed that hers still remain grasped around his. He removed it and placed his hand on top of her own, giving it a gentle rub with his thumb. "I know the feeling all too well," he muttered. More to himself than to her. He didn't take notice of her questioning gaze falling onto him. "My father was murdered when I was very young. He died right in front of me; bleeding from his chest. Even now I can sometimes see his face whenever I sleep."

He didn't know what provoked him to say this, especially with someone he _just_ met. His father's death wasn't something he had ever liked to talk about. Even Elise had seldom heard little of it. Not because he didn't trust her but simply because he wanted nothing more than to forget the image of his father's deathly pale face as blood seeped out of his chest.

The grip on his hand tightened and Arno saw that the woman was now clasping his in both of her own. Wet drops landed on his skin and looking up, he saw that she was crying more tears. Except this time they weren't for her. They were for him. She was crying for _him_.

"I'm _so _sorry," her lips trembled had she attempted to rub smooth circles into his hand "No child should have to see their parents die in front of them."

His eyes became downcast as he chuckled mirthlessly. "S'alright, love. I've long since gotten over it for the most part. I just wish I wouldn't have to remember it so _vividly_."

"Remembering can good though," he raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. She gave him a small watery smile in return. "It reminds us of what we've lost, yes, but it also reminds us of what we still have. Your father may be gone from this world but as long as you still remember him and all the good times you've shared together, then he'll never truly be _gone_. Don't just focus on the bad, focus on the _good_; because he'll be with you as long as you carry him in your memories." Her smile grew. "It's especially true if you always carry him in this." Lifting one of her hands, she lightly poked him in the chest, earning her an amused laugh from Arno.

"I must say, love; _you sure_ _know a way to a man's heart_."

There was a beat of silence. Two. Then three.

The ensuing laughter from the two could be heard all over the surrounding area. Luckily there had been no one around at the moment to hear it. However if there was, and they were to take a look in the nearby cemetery, they would be met with the sight of both Arno and the woman holding on tightly to each other as they laughed up a storm, tears streaming down both their cheeks and smiles so wide it nearly split their faces in half.

After what felt like hours of nonstop laughing, the two were finally able to catch their as they continued to hold onto each other for support. Both their chests heaved with large intakes of oxygen which would be broken by the occasional giggle. Arno wiped the tears from his eyes as his right arms snaked its way around the woman's shoulders. She, in return, leaned her head onto his shoulder while her hands clasped around both her knees. A large smile was present on her face as her open mouth drew in gasps of air. The two didn't say anything for the longest time as both simply sat while contently leaning against each other. Although Arno couldn't see it, a blush had spread throughout the woman's face as she unconsciously moved her head into his chest. Her smile became grew warmer as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She felt a flutter in her chest and she was thankful she was sitting at the moment because she could also feel her legs becoming weak.

"What's your name?" She found herself asking. She took pleasure in the vibration that reverberated in his chest as he chuckled.

"You can call me Arno, love. Arno Dorian." He gave her hooded head a light pat. "And you?"

"Juvia Lockser," he heard her whisper. It was certainly a strange sounding name. Nothing he certainly had ever heard before but it was still beautiful all the same.

"Well Juvia, what's say we get out of this godforsaken place and finally get you into some decent clothing? Not that I particularly mind seeing you in my robes." He gave her a wink, making her laugh before lightly slapping his chest.

"Pervert," she giggled. "You _would_ enjoy seeing me naked in your clothes wouldn't you?"

"I think any hot blooded male would kill to see what I've seen tonight." She gave him another firm slap, making him laugh outright. Getting up from the bench, he turned and reached his hand towards her. "Shall we, _mademoiselle_?"

"Indeed we shall, _monsieur_." Smiling, she reached up and grabbed his outstretched hand and allowed him to pull her up. She didn't attempt to stop him as he wrapped his arm around her once again. The action making her heart beat a mile a minute.

They both walked out onto the main road and slowly but surely made their way towards the inner districts of Paris. It was still very dark out but luckily their path was illuminated by the thousands of midnight torches that aligned the city's buildings. There were little to no guards out on patrol and those that they did see luckily didn't spare the two a second glance. Probably thinking of them as nothing more than a drunk and his whore due to the little amount of clothing she had on. As both continued to walk at a silent and steady pace, a question suddenly formed in Arno's mind. Something that he had been meaning to ask since he had first laid his eyes on the beautiful form of Juvia Lockser.

"By the way," he said, causing her to look up at him in confusion. "That thing you did with the water earlier. What was that?"

Her eyes widened before they narrowed into a playful frown. Her lips formed into a mischievous smirk as she replied with one simple word. "Magic."

Arno blinked, causing her to let out another giggle before snuggling further into his chest. He simply shrugged his shoulders as the pair continued their walk through the city. If she didn't want to tell him than he wasn't going to force her.

He would find out one day though. That he secretly promised to himself.

* * *

"_Olivier Garneau is dead." _

"…_I see. How?" _

"_Murdered. His vehicle was ambushed on the highway while he was on his way back to Montreal. He took two bullets to the stomach, one to the chest, and another to the head."_

"_Do we have any information on the attackers?" _

"_Yes, sir. There was two of them; one male and one female. Both were driving in a black Sadan when they ambushed Garneau." _

"_Any visuals?" _

"_Just the video footage we were able to retrieve from the cameras placed along the highway. Take a look at this."_

"_Is that who I think it is?"_

"_Yes, sir. The Vigilante, himself. Olivier Garneau was killed by Aiden Pierce." _

"_Not immediately, it seems. Look there, the woman's dragging him out of the car."_

"_From what we can tell, it looks like they were trying to interrogate him." _

"_Why kill him then? Why not simply capture him?" _

"_Not idea, sir. Tying up loose ends, probably? It's possible they simply wanted to send a message."_

"_That woman, do we have anything on her?" _

"_No, sir. Almost nothing. What we do know is that she appeared out of nowhere a few months ago when she started attacking key Abstergo research sites all over the country."_

"_By herself?"_

"_No, sir. Some of our guys at CTOS say that she's working with that international hacker group, Deadsec."_

"_I see. Have we managed to get a name?"_

"_Just a codename, sir. She's known as Skeleton Key, on account of the symbol she wears on her jacket; a skull surrounded by twelve keys."_

"_Strange. Do we have any other information on her?"_

"_Just one thing, sir. Though it could be entirely coincidental." _

"_What is it?"_

"_Apparently her attacks on Abstergo outposts didn't start until sometime after Desmond Miles was successfully taken into custody."_

"_Interesting…"_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII: Burgundy Partygoer

"Do we really need to be here, Evie?"

"For the hundredth time, Jacob, _yes_. Henry told us that a very close associate of Lucy Thorne will be attending this party and wants us to obtain any information from him in regards to her whereabouts by any means necessary. _Discreetly _of course."

"I understand that. What I don't understand is why _I _have to be here." Jacob grimaced as he fiddled with the collar of his suit. "You know how much I hate these lavish parties. Blending in with high society has always been your thing."

"_My _thing?" Evie looked at her brother incredulously. "Since when has mingling with the stiffed lips always been my thing?"

"Oh come now, sister." Jacob grinned. "You're the prim and proper lady in the court and I'm the no good, lawbreaking reprobate who's more suited for the streets. It totally makes sense!"

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just call me a 'prim and proper lady' when it's usually me who does more of the lawbreaking than you." Evie sighed in exasperation at her brother's antics. Sometimes she wondered how it was she was related to such an imbecile. "Regardless, Henry said that he wanted _both_ of us on this assignment so like it or not you're staying. So I better not hear any more complaints from you for the rest of the night. Understand?" She sent her brother a glare, daring him to try and protest.

Seeing as how he didn't really have a choice, Jacob threw his hands up in the air with a roll of his eyes. "Fine, but don't blame me if someone ends up with a black eye. I can't stand listening to these stuffed shirts drabble on and on about how much money they have." He gave his sister a mocking bow. "If her majesty permits it, this lowly peasant kindly requests to go and find the nearest drinking establishment. Me thinks this night is going to be very boring for this one's liking and would like to indulge himself with a few bottles of _very _hard liquor."

Evie scowled and swatted her brother on the chest. "Fine. But please try to remember, brother dearest, that we are on a mission and cannot afford any screw-ups. So it would be very helpful if you didn't get piss drunk before we even have a chance to find the target."

Jacob simply waved his hand at Evie in a dismissive gesture as he excused himself. "No promises, dear sister. After all, you know just how much I _love_ to wreck a good party. Especially if it's one belonging to a Templar." He flashed her a grin over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Annoyance set crept onto Evie's face as she watched her younger twin go. "That's what I'm afraid of." She muttered to herself before heading in the opposite direction, intent on finding her target.

* * *

_Finally!_ Jacob thought to himself as he roughly pushed his way through the mass of well-dressed patrons, ignoring their cries of outrage as he purposely shoved them aside and causing some to spill their drinks all over their expensive clothing.

He truly hated environments like this. Being surrounded by hundreds of stuffy nobles who thought themselves better than everyone else simply because they wore fancier clothes and lived in bigger houses. It was times like these that made him reflect on his choice of choosing to sneak off to England without his father's permission. Then again, he had never been one to obey his father in the first place. That had always been Evie's department.

With an annoyed grunt, Jacob snatched a glass of wine off of the tray of a passing servant and downed it in one gulp and immediately sticking his tongue out in disgust as the fowl tasting beverage went down his throat. Christ, even the drinks were as unbearable as the pompous pricks who drank them. Not even the alcohol served in London's most backwater pubs tasted this rancid! Just another thing to add to the ever growing list of reasons why he preferred the simple things in life rather than the so called "posh and exquisite" tastes of the ruling high class. With a flick of his wrist, Jacob tossed the empty glass into a nearby plant pot when nobody was looking before making his way to the ballroom.

Like with every other room one would see in a typical wealthy man's home, the ballroom was wide, spacious and covered from bottom to top with priceless decorations; from the gold studded walls to the numerous diamond chandeliers hanging from an equally exquisite looking ceiling. The room was big enough to hold at least a hundred or so people, most of which were currently dancing in pairs to the soothing rhythm of the orchestra nearby. Those who were not currently partaking in a late afternoon waltz were situated among the dozens of clothed tables dining on expensive looking food. Others could also be seen standing and chatting amicably with each other all throughout the ballroom with drinks in their hands. All in all, it was the picture perfect display of the peak of English high society. Though to Jacob, it was just another way for the nobles to flaunt their money. He honestly didn't know how these people had the nerve to live as they did. While most of London's population were living in poor conditions and barely making ends meet on the meager wages they earned through grueling hard work, the overbearing nobles were busy hiding away in their mansions and wasting their money on frivolous things with money they didn't even rightfully earn. It was simply sickening to look at.

Deciding that he had spent more than enough time around the aristocracy, Jacob was about to turn around and make his exit when he suddenly caught something at the corner of his eye. Turning his head towards what had caught his attention, he found he couldn't help but stare at the sight of a _very _beautiful woman casually sipping on a glass of wine while leaning on a nearby window and staring out into the night sky. She had dark hair that was pulled up into a tight bun, lightly tanned skin and wore a dark burgundy dress that hugged her curvy figure quite well, along with a fur scarf wrapped around her shoulders. It didn't help that the dress was also low-cut, giving Jacob a decent view of her large, well-endowed breasts that looked about ready to pup out of the dress' edges. He also noticed that he wasn't the only one staring as quite a few men and even a few women were also stealing long glances in her direction while some of the men openly gawked at the deep crevice of her cleavage.

If the woman noticed the countless stares she was receiving, she certainly did a good job of hiding it as she continued to gaze out the window and take another sip of her wine, seemingly content with ignoring the world around her.

After a few minutes of internally debating with himself, Jacob decided to intervene on the woman's behalf and spare her from any more unsettling stares. Putting on his best gentleman's smile, he reluctantly grabbed another glass of the horrid wine and strode over to her. Ignoring the bewildered looks of the people behind him, Jacob casually leaned himself on the opposite end of the window just as the woman's emotionless gaze settled onto him. He noticed that her eyes were a deep shade of green.

"Lively night for star gazing, wouldn't you agree?" he asked jovially. He sipped his wine and winced as the fowl tasting liquid went down his throat.

Thankfully the green-eyed beauty didn't seem to notice, or care for that matter, as she once again turned her attention out the window. "I suppose," she replied with an equally emotionless tone. "Though it's a bit too loud and bright for my taste."

"On that we can agree," he chuckled. "You truly have no idea just how much I _loathe_ these types of events."

"Really?" she asked, sounding somewhat intrigued as she brought her eyes to meet his. "If they are such a bother then why come at all?"

"You can thank my sister for that. She just loves dragging me to places I never want to go." Jacob laughed as he threw his twin under the metaphorical carriage. "You know how siblings are, I'm sure. Especially sisters. It's like the good Lord specifically created them just for the sole purpose of making our lives a living hell."

"Siblings, huh?" Once again she found herself staring out the window, but the look in her eyes mysteriously became melancholy. A barely noticeable smile followed soon after. "Yes, I do believe I know exactly how that's like."

She said nothing more and an uncomfortable silence fell between the two. Well, at least for Jacob it was. She on the other hand seemed content with ignoring everything around her. Scratching his neck awkwardly, Jacob cleared his throat before speaking. "So, might I have the pleasure of knowing your name, Miss?"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Minerva," she replied simply.

"Goddess of wisdom, eh? Fancy." He held his out his hand. "Jacob Frye. A pleasure to meet you Minerva."

She stared at him a few moments longer before returning the gesture. Her smaller hand was almost entirely engulfed in Jacob's larger gloved appendage. "Likewise, Mister Frye." She said with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Just Jacob is fine, Miss Minerva. I'm still quite young for such drab formalities." Smirking, he held up his glass to her. Letting out a coy smile of her own, Minerva clinked her glass against his before drinking. She raised an amused eyebrow as Jacob quickly downed the rest of his wine in one gulp, making a disgusted face as soon as the last drops of liquid left the glass. "By God that is the worst tasting shite I've ever had in my entire life."

"I take it the wine's not to your fancy?" she asked sarcastically.

"Love, I've tasted bathroom water with more flavor than this mangy piss-in-a-glass." With a scoff, he slammed the glass on a nearby table before turning back towards her. "Now then, how about you and I ditch this posh gig and go found ourselves a more quiet place to converse?" he asked with a charming smile.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction as her voice took on a warning edge. "I sincerely hope you're not asking me to your bedchambers after having just met."

"Oh no, love! Nothing of the sort!" he waved his hands in a placating gesture. "I was simply suggesting that we move somewhere where we won't have to talk over that dull music over there." He gestured back to the orchestra. "Besides, you said that this place was too loud and bright for your liking. Perhaps we could rearrange ourselves in the gardens outside? It's much more quitter with less people to bother us. Plus I know you must be tired of being gawked at like some sort of exotic animal." His eyes moved back to the various partygoers who were doing a not-so-great job of subtly sneaking glances at the duo. Some even had the audacity to point and whisper to their partners. No doubt making false claims of them being some sort of couple.

She followed his gaze before eventually nodding her consent. "You do have a point. Very well Jacob, let us be on our way." However before she had a chance to move, the Englishman took it upon himself to wrap his larger arm around hers. Startled at the unexpected contact, she was about to reprimand him but was cut off when he brought his face close to hers.

"Relax love," he whispered in her ear. "Just thought I'd let the rabble know that you're, shall we say, _taken _for the night." He gave her a wink as they made their way through the crowded ballroom and out the large set of backdoors that lead them into an exquisite looking garden that looked more like a maze than it did a regular backyard.

The makeshift couple slowly maneuvered through the garden, taking the time to admire the numerous blossoming flowers and ripe cherry trees before seating themselves on a park bench that overlooked the rest of the garden. It also gave them a perfect view of the clear summer sky, showing them the twinkling lights of hundreds of thousands of stars shining down on them from above.

"Now this is more like it." Jacob said with a yawn as he outstretched his arms on the bench's spine. He was extra careful to not initiate any more unwanted contact with Minerva, who was sitting no more than a foot away from him.

"I agree," she replied with a nod as she leaned into the bench, causing her slightly exposed back to make contact with his arm. She didn't seem to mind the touch. "I've always found the outside air to be much more preferable."

"You and me both," he said with a chuckle. It was true after all. How many time had he skipped out on his father's lessons just so he could play and train outside? He never liked sitting in one place for hours on end listening to father drabble on and on about the history of the Assassins. Evie had always been the bookworm of the family. Him? He found it was much easier to learn through constant movement than sitting stiff in a chair all day. "I'll never understand how those pesky rich folk can stay caged up in their mansions all day while the world continues to turn and change without them. It's almost an insult, really. I mean, what's the point of even having a lot of money if they're not going to do anything meaningful with it? Such as fixing this damn city for starters." He muttered the last part to himself.

Minerva had been able to hear him though. Letting out an amused laugh, she crossed her arms under her chest which caused her already ample breasts to perk up even more. "Funny. I never figured someone like you to be a man of the people."

He gave a laugh of his own. "What can I say? It comes with the job."

"Oh?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "And what exactly is your job?"

"The 'steal from the rich and give to the needy' type of job," he said with a wink. "Don't tell anyone, though. I'm sort of undercover at the moment."

She lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles. It was quite an enchanting sound if Jacob had to be honest. "My, my, to think that I would be swept off my feet by a wanted criminal. You sure are a daring one, Mister Frye."

"Hey! I resent that!" he laughed as he lightly swatted her shoulders. "Besides, it's not as if they'll notice a few thousand coins missing when they're already wasting it on those parties of theirs. Lord knows there are easily thousands of other people who need it more than they do."

"Hmm, true," she agreed with a nod. "One can only stare at this decaying city for so long before it starts to eat away at your soul. I'm just glad that not everyone is choosing to ignore it."

"Someone has to take a stand for those who can't do it themselves." Jacob's tone turned sullen. "I just wish there were more of us to do so."

"Maybe there is," he turned a raised his brow at her in confusion. She gave him a coy smile. "Maybe you're not as alone as you think. There could be others out there who help but simply choose to stay out of the spotlight."

"Really? He asked in a playful manner. "And would I be right to assume that you're one of these secretly good Samaritans?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Who knows?" She scooted closer to his larger frame and before he had the chance to react she placed her lips right against his ears. "You're not the only one with secrets, Jacob." He shivered as her voice became more sultry and seductive. He could also feel the large swells of her breasts pressing up against his side.

Grinning, Jacob decided to play along. Turning fully towards her, he placed her hands on her shoulders and pushed her away until her slender back hit the bottom of the bench, causing her barely concealed breasts to jiggle enticingly in her tight dress. She offered no resistance as he laid on top of her, gently grasped her face in his large hands. Bringing his own lips to her ear, he whispered. "I think I'm beginning to like you, love."

"_Just_ beginning to?" she giggled as she placed her hands on his face. "Because I've already decided that I like you _a lot_." Slowly she leaned in and brought her face closer to his.

"You flatter me so, love." Jacob repeated the action but just when it looked like the pair were about to lock lips a nearby voice interrupted them. One that caused Jacob to jump back in surprise.

"Jacob?! Where the hell are you, you moronic twit?!" The annoyed voice of his twin sister echoed throughout the garden.

"Goddammit, Evie! _Now _of all times?!" he growled to himself before quickly helping Minerva off the bench, who looked to be just a startled as he was. "My deepest apologies, love, but it seems we must cut our little affair short. It seems my _beloved_ sister has decided to grace us with her presence." The sarcasm practically radiated off his tongue. "Let me just say again that I am deeply sorry for-"

"It's alright. I understand," she giggled as she straightened out her dress. "It's probably a good idea that we stopped anyway. Wouldn't want to put on a free show for any stray wanderers now would we?"

"Amen to that," he gave her another wink before taking her hand and graciously giving it a small kiss. "I'm afraid we must part for now but I hope we get the chance to meet again in the future."

"Oh don't worry, lover boy. We'll definitely see each other again." Stepping up, she stood on her tiptoes and returned his kind gesture with a kiss of her own on his cheek. Jacob relished at the feel of her soft lips on his skin. "I'll make sure of it," she whispered seductively in his ear, causing a shiver to run up his spine, before walking away. Jacob couldn't help but stare as her rather generous and shapely bottom teasingly swayed from side to side. Looking over her shoulder, she sent him another wink before disappearing around the corner.

Jacob, meanwhile, stood in place and continued to stare at the spot she vanished from with half lidded eyes. Unconsciously, his hand touched the spot where she kissed him. A smile made its way onto his face. Not a teasing or playful smile but a real, genuine smile. He was so engrossed with his staring that he didn't notice his sister walk up to him from behind.

"About bloody time, Jacob! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Evie snapped as she walked around and gave her brother a hard glare. She was about to reprimand him further until she saw the strange look on her brother's face. Waving her hand in front of his face, she snapped her fingers. "Hello?! Earth to Jacob!" Seeing no response, Evie sighed before giving her brother a hard slap across the face, effectively knocking him out of his trance.

"What the hell, Evie?!" he shouted indigently as he rubbed his cheek. "What'd you go and do that for?!"

"For not responding after I called your name a dozen bloody times, you damned fool!" Evie's glare returned as she crossed her arms under her chest. "What the hell were you doing out here anyway?"

"Nothing! I-" His eyes momentarily returned to where Minerva disappeared from before quickly settling back on his sister. "I was looking for Miss Throne's associate?" It was posed as a question rather than a statement.

"Oh really?" his sister asked, clearly not believing him. "Out here in the dark where there's no one around?"

"Well…yes! We don't know where he could possibly be hiding!" If Evie wasn't so angry she might've laughed at how much of a child her brother was acting like.

"Well luckily for you, I managed to track him down and _persuade_ him to part with the information we need. Which is why it would be a very good idea for us to leave now before the guards find his body bleeding out in the upstairs bathroom."

"Oh." Her brother replied with a blank look. Coughing into his hand, Jacob gave his sister a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. "Yes, well…mission accomplished, I suppose. Job well done, sister."

She scowled at him and shook her head. It wasn't like he had done anything in the first place. "Whatever. Let's just take our leave now before we're caught. It's late and I _really_ don't feel like running from the police at the moment."

"For once we agree on something," Jacob chuckled. Evie's scowl deepened as she gave her brother a hard punch to the chest before walking off. Jacob followed closely after but not before taking one last glance in the direction Minerva went off to. Shaking his head, he let another smile grace his lips as he quickly caught up to his sister. He truly hoped he would meet her again. There were very few women who managed to catch his interest, and this lovely dame had managed to do so in such a short amount of time. When he wasn't out doing missions for Henry or hunting Templars, Jacob swore that he would scour the city up and down in search for her. And hopefully they would finally be able to continue their little tryst that his sister had so rudely interrupted.

_Great. Now that woman's got me acting like some kind of lovesick schoolboy._ Jacob thought fondly. He looked up at the stars and let out a wistful sigh. _What a woman._

* * *

"_Lucy Stillman is dead, sir. Her body was recovered from the temple in the Colosseum."_

"_That's a shame. She was a useful agent. Do we have the whereabouts of Desmond Miles and the other Assassins?"_

"_Last we heard they were flying to New York but that's all the Intel we've been able to gather. We have agents searching throughout all major cities and highways but it'll take some time."_

"_Well hurry it up! The sooner we either kill or recapture Miles the sooner we can finally continue our search for those damned pieces of Eden!"_

"_I'll tell them to speed up their progress, sir."_

"_See that you do, Captain. By the way, how is our other prisoner coming along?"_

"_She's regained consciousness but refuses to say anything. Not even our best interrogation methods are getting through to her." _

"_That's not surprising considering the thrashing she gave your men. Have we figured out how she was able to use those strange abilities of hers?"_

"_The science teams are still studying the blood samples they collected. So far they've only been able to find small traces of some kind of foreign energy but not much else. Respectfully sir, they believe it would be much easier if we simply put her down so they can perform an autopsy on her."_

"_Absolutely not! We are to keep her alive at all costs! She's much more useful to us alive than dead! I don't care how long it takes Captain! Just do whatever you can to get her talking! Except killing her!"_

"_Yes, sir. I'll get right on it."_

"_First Assassins and ancient temples now we have blue haired girls with strange powers? Just what the hell is the world coming to?" _


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter IX: Golden Angel

Desmond never wanted to be an Assassin.

That was the thought that haunted his mind as he lay on the bed that Abstergo had so _graciously _provided for him. If it wasn't for the fact that he was currently locked in his room like some sort of caged animal, he would've actually found it to be quite comfortable. Despite the fact that he was basically a prisoner in every way except in name, he reluctantly had to admit that they sure did know how to live in style. The walls may have been as blank as his sweatshirt – did he mention that he wasn't even allowed to change his clothes? – but it was still the largest room he had ever stayed in. Hell, not even his bedroom back at the Farm had been this big.

Thinking about his home brought a scowl to his face. Why was he suddenly thinking about his old home of all things? A home he willingly ran away from, no less? Maybe it was because that asshole, Vidic just _had_ to remind him that he had, in fact, once been an Assassin. Not that he had really been given a choice in the first place. His dad had pretty much forced the position onto him and his mom sure as hell hadn't been any help in trying to dissuade him. All of those painful and agonizing hours of training and studying and for what? Just so he could stay cooped up with thirty other people on a farm he wasn't ever allowed to leave? Granted he _did_ leave eventually, only to end up living on the streets for about ten years before getting kidnapped sometime later. The only saving grace was that he'd never been alone for any part of it. _She _had been there by his side every step of the way. Well, except for when Abstergo had kidnapped him but he ever blamed her for that.

Thinking about _her_ brought a smile to his face. It always did whenever he thought of her. She had been his best friend for practically his entire life. She had been there to comfort him whenever his dad or the other trainers were especially harsh on him. She had been there to help him whenever he got confused in his studies. More importantly, she had been there when he left the Farm. There were no question, no complaints, no second guesses. Just the two of them as they ran away hand-in-hand. He could still vividly remember the sound of her musical laugh and the sight of her golden blonde hair swaying in the breeze of the wind as they ran as far and as fast as their legs could carry them. But most importantly, he could remember the way her deep brown eyes shined like the sun as they finally escaped the place that had been the cause of so much misery in his life. God, how long has it been since he last saw her? It honestly felt like a lifetime ago. He didn't know as there never was a way to tell time in this damn place.

He could still remember her screaming his name at the top of her lungs as he was hauled away by Abstergo agents.

Now she was _gone_. Replaced by a woman who not only shared her name but also the same shade of blonde hair. Even worse, that same woman was working for the people who took him away from _her_. He didn't trust her, no matter how many times she assured him that they were on the same side.

Turning on his side, Desmond let out a long rueful sigh before closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep. Hopefully he'd feel much better tomorrow after watching his ancestor kill more Templars. He'd even go as far as to imagine himself plunging the hidden blade into that fucker, Warren's throat.

But tonight he decided that he would simply dream of better times. Of a time where there was no one but himself and _her_.

Ten year-old Desmond Miles sat alone in his room crying into his pillow.

He didn't know what he had done wrong. He had gotten all of the steps right but he must've been too slow because his dad got angry with him again. Told him that he wasn't doing it quickly enough and proceeded to punish him by pitting him against one of the fighting instructors. Even worse was that the fact that he was fighting against Mr. Lance. The man had always made sure to beat him especially hard and his dad never stopped him no matter how many bruises he got. It was after the fifth beating that Desmond finally decided that he had enough. He didn't even wait for his dad to respond before he was halfway up the stairs. All he remembered was hid dad yelling that he wasn't allowed to come down for dinner before slamming his bedroom door shut.

That had been four hours ago. The sun had long since descended into the horizon and was replaced by the clear summer night sky. Cool air breezed through his open window and caused the nearby curtains to gently sway in the wind. Desmond remained motionless in his bed as his tears continued to drip onto his pillowcase. His beaten and bruised body shook with silent sobs. He didn't know anything anymore. He didn't know why his dad was causing him so much pain. He didn't know why his mom constantly defended his violent behavior. He didn't know why he was still living here when it was painfully obvious that neither of his parents cared for his wellbeing. Maybe he should just run away now while he had the chance. It's not like anyone would miss him…

A gentle knock on his bedroom door interrupted his thoughts. He didn't get the chance to tell whoever it was to go away before it opened with a soft creak.

"Desmond?" A small voice as soft as the wind timidly asked. He didn't respond and simply kept his head face down in his pillow. The bedroom door closed once again and he could hear the sounds of soft footsteps padding their way up to his bed before a pair of slender arms gently wrapped themselves around his small frame. Desmond stiffened at the touch but soon relaxed when he recognized who it was. He knew the feeling of those of that specific pair of arms anywhere. After all, they had hugged him more than his parents ever did.

Turning in his spot, Desmond instantly met with a small pair of dark brown eyes that stared back into his with a mix of worry, sadness, and soothing love. Her golden blonde hair draped across her shoulders and down her back like a blanket of soft yellow silk. No matter how many times he saw her hair he couldn't help but run his fingers through it like a child would do in a running stream. And just like the last hundred or so times, she didn't stop him as he did just that. The yellow strands parted for his fingers as they weaved their way up and down. To him, her hair was probably the softest thing he had ever felt.

"_Lucy_," his hoarse voice whispered her name and soon he was accompanied by more sobs that broke their way through his lips. Her arms tightened their hold around them and he swiftly buried his head into her crook of her neck. She said nothing as he wept into her shoulder, opting to remain quiet while she placed a comforting kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm sorry, Desmond," she whispered into his ear as she rubbed smooth circles into his back.

"S'okay, Lucy," he mumbled back as his sobs quieted down. Shifting in his position, Desmond wrapped his own arms around the girl and pulled her close. The two remained silent as they lay on Desmond's bed, seemingly content with basking in each other's warmth and comfort. For Desmond it was even more comforting than the hugs his own mother gave him, which were quite rare nowadays. His friend's hugs were probably the only thing that were keeping him sane at this point.

"Are you okay?" Lucy knew it was a stupid question as he was obviously anything _but_ okay. She had heard about what had happened to him hours earlier but was unable to do anything due to her own training which had taken place away from the farm. It killed her on the inside to see her best friend tortured like this, especially from his own father. He was only a child. They both were, yet the adults didn't seem to care as they constantly pushed them to train harder and faster for whatever reason she wasn't sure. Not that she cared anyway. The only thing that mattered to her was the boy wrapped inside her embrace.

"Not really, no." Desmond said with what small bit of humor he could muster. "Dad had Mr. Lance beat me up again. Said I was too slow in my climbing."

Lucy's eyes hardened at the mention of the cruel combat instructor. She didn't know how the man could live with himself beating on small children as much as he did. The fact that Mr. Miles even let him only made her hate the boy's father even more. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Desmond. Otherwise I would've really let him have it." And she _would have_ had she actually been there. She would've taken great pleasure in beating the man's face in for laying his hands on her Desmond.

"Its fine, Lucy." Desmond sighed as he pulled away from her shoulder. "Not like it would've made much of a difference anyway. He would've just beaten us both."

"Oh please! That jerkbag wouldn't have been able to lay a finger on me!" She boasted proudly. Desmond could stifle the giggle that came out of his mouth. Lucy could go from serious to all jokes and smiles at the drop of a hat. It always managed to cheer him up no matter how bad of a mood he was in. "Besides, we're _supposed _to watch each other's backs! Just like we promised remember?" She asked in mock seriousness as she poked his chest with her finger, causing him to laugh again.

Desmond did, in fact, remember. It was two years ago on a hot summer's day and his dad had been kind enough to give him the day off from his harsh training. Lucky for him, Lucy had also been given the same privilege and two had spent the entire day playing together. They swam in the nearby river, played hide and seek, ate a nice barbequed dinner that his father made on rare occasions, watched movies, and had finished the day with stargazing on the balcony of the barn. It was then that Lucy had held her pinky out and swore that she would always be there and protect him if he promised to do the same for her. With a smile bigger than he had ever given to anyone in his life, Desmond locked his finger with her own and the two shook. The night ended with the two falling asleep in each other's arms with smiles brighter than the sun.

It had been the single greatest day in Desmond's entire life. One he promised he would remember for the rest of his life. Just thinking about it made Desmond forget all of today's tragic events. "Yeah, I remember." He told her as he poked her right back, causing her to let out a giggle of her own. Raising an eyebrow, Desmond gave her a mischievous smile and before she could react, she felt the sides of her stomach assaulted with ten of the boy's fingers as he relentlessly tickled her.

"Gyahahahaha! S-Stop it, Desmond!" Lucy laughed and tried to swat his hands away but it was a futile attempt as Desmond continued with his relentless tickling. His grin was practically a mile wide as his friend kept laughing.

Finally after what felt like hours, Desmond had ceased his tickle attack and watched with mirth as Lucy tried to regain the oxygen she lost. The smile never left her face and only seemed to grow wider as she stared back at him through panting breathes. Suddenly her entire body found itself in Desmond's tight embrace once again and Lucy didn't hesitate to return it with equal fervor.

"Hey Lucy?" Desmond asked after a minute of silence.

"Yes Desmond?" she replied as held onto him.

"Thank you," he said simply. He reburied his head in the crook of her neck and Lucy could soon feel the returning wetness leave his eyes. Tears prickled her own eyes and she gave Desmond a loving peck on the cheek before burying her head into Desmond's neck.

"You're welcome, Desmond." She whispered into his ear. Soon the two friends fell asleep in each other's arms and Desmond all but forgot about the events that transpired hours before.

* * *

"That's it. I'm done. I'm fucking done with this place."

A bruised and battered sixteen year-old Desmond grit his teeth as he hastily packed whatever spare clothes and pocketed whatever spare money he could find. He finally had enough with this place and the people around him. Desmond had hoped, _prayed_ even, that things would get better. That maybe there was a reason his dad and teachers were always so harsh on him. But so far all he ever received was more harsh scolding and even more brutal beatings. His body couldn't take it anymore. His mind couldn't take it anymore. _He _couldn't take it anymore. So he finally decided to do the one thing he had been debating with himself for a long. He was going to run. He was going to run away and he was _never _going to look back.

Seeing as how he probably wasn't going to get very far carrying a whole suitcase, Desmond ultimately decided to just forget the clothes and bring the money. He could always buy more and when push came to shove, steal more if need be. He had been enough intense training to know how to be stealthy.

Putting on his shoes, Desmond carefully opened the door and looked both left and right down the hallway, making sure that there wasn't anybody still awake. Neither seeing nor hearing anybody in the house, Desmond walked softly down the patted hall and down the flight of stairs that lead into the living room. A grin broke out on his face as he spotted his dad's wallet on a nearby coffee table. Figuring that he was long overdue some sweet revenge, Desmond rummaged through the wallet and nearly danced in joy when he found it loaded with a wad of hundred dollar bills. Pocketing the money, Desmond unlocked the front door and made his way outside before softly closing it behind him.

It took a total of five seconds before he broke off into a dead sprint away from the Farm. It took even less before a voice suddenly called out to him.

"_Desmond! Wait!_"

His stop was so sudden that he almost tripped and fell over on his face. Once he regained his loose footing, he turned around and was almost instantaneously barreled over and knocked to the ground by a certain blonde Assassin. Coughing up a storm and trying to regain his breathe, Desmond was about to push her off until he suddenly felt small droplets of water hitting his face. Looking up, he was shocked to see Lucy huddled over him with tears leaking from her eyes. Her lips quivered and her face was scrunched up into a hurt look that made his heart feel like it was punctured by a needle.

"Lucy! What are-" He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as the left side of his face was hit by a slap that echoed into air.

"Y-You idiot." She muttered as her hair covered her eyes. "You absolute fucking idiot!" The next thing he knew, Desmond was being assaulted by a wave of punches that the blonde rained down onto his chest. He did nothing to defend himself as his friend let loose her anger. Besides, she wasn't hitting _that_ hard. Okay, that was a lie. She was hitting _pretty _hard and Desmond was sure that his entire torso would be badly bruised in the morning. Still, he made no move to cover his chest as she continued her rough abrasions.

Her blows soon lessened but Desmond still didn't get the chance to speak as she leaned forward and wrapped her around his neck. Desmond desperately tried not to pay attention to the soft touch of her rather large breasts as she leaned into him. Her sniffles nearly tickled his ear and he could faintly feel her moist tears staining his sweatshirt.

"You idiot," she said into his ear as her grip tightened around him. "Were you really just going to leave me behind? I though we promised to stay together no matter what."

If she wasn't laying directly on top of him, Desmond probably would've still been weighed down by the overwhelming amount of guilt he was feeling. He wasn't even going to attempt to lie to himself. He was so wrapped up in leaving that he had completely forgotten about Lucy. There were no words to describe the amount of self-loathing he had for himself at that moment.

Slowly he wrapped his arms back around her and gave her the biggest hug he could muster. "M'sorry Lu-Lu." He mumbled into her shoulder, unconsciously using the nickname he had given her when they were toddlers. "I didn't mean to leave you behind, but I just _needed _to get the hell outta there. I can't stay in that place any longer."

"I know," she replied. It made Desmond a little alarmed. He expected her to either yell or attack him again but he definitely hadn't expected _that_. "And I accept your apology. I just wish you came and got me first."

"Wait." Desmond said before hastily pushing the blonde off him. She gave him a hurt look but reluctantly let go of him. Though she still chose to remain clutched to his arm. "You mean you aren't here to try and take me back? You want to come _with _me?" he asked with an incredulous tone.

She wiped the remainder of her tears with her arm before giving him a shaking smile. "Of course. Like I said, we made each other a promise. And like _hell_ I was just going to stay there by myself." She let out a hoarse laugh before suddenly becoming serious again. Narrowing her eyes, he jabbed a finger hard into his chest. "So to answer your question, yes I'm coming with you. And you better get used to it because there's no way you are _ever_ getting rid of me that easily again. Got it, Mister?" Her gaze was hard but he could also hear the slight pleading in her voice. The way she clutched his arm tighter was also a huge indicator.

They were officially stuck with each other, and Desmond found that he wouldn't have it any other way.

His lips answered for him as her captured her face in his grasp and brought it forward to meet his halfway in. Her eyes widened momentarily before they closed as she happily returned the kiss. Their arms found their way around each other again and the two friends turned lovers lost themselves in their blissful moment. Minutes passed by before the two finally let go of each other and attempted to regain their breath. Slowly they got to their feet and clasped their hands together. Lucy flashed him a warm smile before she started walking forward with Desmond quickly following after her. The tight grip on his hand showed him that she wasn't letting go anytime soon.

"Come on, Desmond!" She laughed as they started running off into the distance. "Let's go and live our lives the way _we_ want to!"

A laugh of his own escaped his lips as he ran parallel to her. A real genuine laugh that he hadn't let out in a long time. But now so long as the girl beside him was always there, he would be sure to laugh as much as he could alongside her.

It was, by far, the greatest day of his life.

* * *

"Wake up, Mr. Miles!"

Desmond's eyes snapped open as he surged forward upright on his bed. His chest rose up and down with ragged breathes as he tried to regain his bearings. When he finally figured out where he was and just who had woken him up, he growled before turning his dark eyes towards the aging Abstergo doctor who stood rigidly near the sliding metal door while impatiently tapping his foot. He gave the younger man a withering glare as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"About damn time, Mr. Miles! I was beginning to think I would need to use much more _forceful_ methods to get you out of bed!"

The veiled threat flew right over Desmond's shoulders as he glared right back at the doctor. "Fucking hell, Doc. Can't a guy get one good night's sleep without you barging into my room every damn morning?"

Vidic narrowed his wrinkled eyes at the ex-Assassin. "Watch your tone, boy. You forget who's room it is you're sleeping in as well as who's currently keeping you alive. So I would be more respectful if I were you."

"Well Doc, why don't you bring your old wrinkly ass over here and I'll show you just how _respectful_ I can be." He cracked his knuckles for emphasis. However the old man merely scoffed before turning to leave the room.

"As amusing as it is listening to you spew empty threats from that foul mouth of yours, I'm afraid that we have work to do. So hurry it up and get in the Animus already."

Desmond subtly gave the man the middle finger behind his back before reluctantly following after him. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde woman who was currently typing away on a computer connected a large machine hooked to the floor in the middle of a large room.

"Morning, Desmond." The woman said as she continued typing. Not once did she look up from her computer as he neared the machine.

"Yeah, _morning_." He replied with a sharp tone as he proceeded to lie down on the machine. He didn't care that her name was Lucy or that her hair was the same pigment of blonde. She would _never_ be the Lucy he knew and loved. _His_ Lucy.

He paid no attention to the Heads Up Display as it swiveled over his head. His last thought before being plunged back into the memories of Altair was the smiling face of his Golden Angel.

* * *

"_Mr. Berg, we just finished our sweep of the Temple. There's nothing here."_

"_That's impossible. There's no way they could've escaped so quickly. Check again."_

"_We did, sir. From top to bottom. There's nothing here but some leftover equipment and a computer." _

"_Dammit. Check to see if you can find anything useful and return to base."_

"_Yes, sir. We'll do one last sweep before- wait. What the hell is that sound?" _

"_Captain?" _

"_It sounds like a- OH SHIT! BOMB! GET THE FUCK D-"_

_***BOOM***_

"_Captain! Captain, report! What the hell's going on?!"_

"_SHIT-*bzzt*- FUCKING AMBUSH! THEY GOT US SURROU-*bzzt*"_

"_SIGMA TEAM, REPORT! I REPREAT, REPORT!"_

"_Hello, Otso Berg."_

"_Who is this?! How did you get on this frequency?!" _

"_Who I am is none of your damn business nor is it important. What is important is that you've got something that belongs to me. And believe me when I say that we will hunt each and every one of you down until we get her back." _

"_I don't know who you think you are but you better listen-"_

"_No, __**you **__listen. You precious elite team are all dead and there isn't a single force on this planet that will stop us from getting back what's ours. You damn Templars already crossed the line when you tried to kill someone very close to me but now it's become personal. You hear me? It doesn't matter how many men you throw at us. We won't stop until each and every one of you are put into the ground where your accursed Order belongs. Run, hide, it doesn't matter. There isn't a single place where our eyes and ears don't reach." _

"_Who. Are. You?"_

"_Who are we? We're __**The Hidden**__, and we're coming for you." *bzzt* _


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter X: White Feathers Part 2

It was done. Tamir, also known as the Black Merchant, had successfully died by his hand and in doing so, he had put the entire city on alert.

Grunting after a hard landing, Altair ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He jumped, dived, rolled, and repeated the process more than a dozen times over the sea of rooftops that spread all over Damascus. Any of the rooftop archers that were unfortunate to cross his path were swiftly cut down by hidden blade to the throat or a throwing knife to the back. The city guards that patrolled the city streets below were thrown into a complete frenzy as they scuttled through every shallow corridor and searched behind every corner with their weapons raised, clearly determined to find the white hooded individual who had murdered one of the city's best weapon dealers. It seemed they were more than determined if the way they also kicked the doors of numerous houses down was any indication. A shame they never realized that Altair had never been one for travel whenever making a hasty escape.

He was successfully able to find a secluded roof garden far enough away from any of the highly populated districts and waited patiently for a few hours before the city's alarm bells were finally silenced. The sun had long since receded into the horizon, causing the night sky to sweep across the entire city and creating the perfect cover for his getaway. With a grunt he swiftly exited the garden and made his way towards the Assassin Bureau.

It took him some time before he was finally able to locate the Order's symbol on the roof of a building. Using the provided ladder, he slid down and took a few moments to catch his breath and quench his thirst using the nearby water fountain before making his way towards the Rafiq's stall.

Just as he thought, the portly looking man was hunched over on his desk with his face deep in his book and didn't notice the other Assassin's presence until he cleared his throat, making the man jump in surprise.

"Altair! Allah, don't scare me like that!" The man yelled with a hand to chest as he attempted to calm his racing heart. "Where in the world have you _been_? The entire city has turned to chaos and when you never returned I thought the worst! I was _this_ close to writing the Master about your unfortunate demise!" He held up his hand and pinch a small amount of air for emphasis.

"Apologies, Rafiq." Altair grunted. "The guards were very persistent in their search for me." He walked over to the man and dug into one of his satchels, pulling out a white feather stained with dried blood. "However I was still able to accomplish my mission." There was the faintest bit of pride in his voice as he re-pocketed the feather.

"So it seems," The Rafiq nodded, impressed with the Novice's handiwork. "Well then, you should probably return to Masyaf and inform Al Mualim of your success. However, seeing as how it's the middle of the night I will graciously allow you to stay in one of the rooms until morning."

"Many thanks, brother." Altair gave the Bureau leader an appreciative nod before settling himself in one of the spare beds. He disarmed himself of his weapons and bags but didn't bother to remove his robes. With a long drawn out sigh, he let his hooded head hit the pillow before drifting off into the realm of sleep.

"Safety and Peace on your travels, Altair." The Bureau leader smiled at the silent Assassin as he gave him a farewell wave.

"You as well." With his weapons strapped securely to his person, he gave the Rafiq a polite nod before walking towards the door. However just as he was about to make his exit a sudden thought popped into his head, causing him to halt mid-step in the middle of the doorway.

"Rafiq…" Altair asked hesitantly with his back still facing towards the man. The Bureau leader looked up from his book and raised a curious eyebrow at the Assassin. After a few moments of tense silence, Altair eventually gave in. "Do many slaves find their way into Damascus?"

The Rafiq tilted his head in confusion. "Slaves?" he asked slowly, wanting to know if he heard the young man correctly. Why in the world did Altair want to know about _that_? Receiving another nod from the man, the Rafiq continued. "Well, there has been a slight increase in the market but certainly nothing more than the usual batch. Why?" The older man's eyebrows shot up in shock. "Don't tell me you're actually thinking of owning one for yourself, Altair! It goes against everything our Creed stands for!"

"Peace, Rafiq." Altair turned back towards the man and raised a hand in a placating gesture. "I am, indeed, looking for a slave but not for the reasons you are thinking. "Seeing the man's confused look, Altair sighed and decided to give him the full story. "While I was riding for Damascus, I came into contact with a woman who told me that her younger sister was captured by slavers. I promised that I would help find her when I wasn't occupied with the Templars. I simply wanted to know if you've seen or heard of any women who may have been brought into the city as slaves."

"I see," While the Rafiq was deeply relived that Altair would not be tarnishing the tenants of their Creed any further, he was also shocked that the young man was actually taking the time to help someone in need. Since when did Altair voluntarily help someone without being ordered to? "And do you happen to know what this mysterious woman looks like?"

"Pale white skin like the Europeans, about a foot shorter than me, dark brown eyes," he gave a slight pause before continuing. "And white hair."

"Oh, so she's elderly then?"

"No, she's actually a few years younger than me."

"What?" The Rafiq asked stunned. "I'm afraid that's not possible Altair. How can she have white hair if she's young?"

"I do not know." Altair said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I only know that there is a high possibility that she's been taken to Jerusalem, which is where I'll be heading after I speak to Al Mualim. However I would greatly appreciate any help you might have to offer. If she somehow finds her way here, send me a message and I will return here as soon as I can."

Rafiq thought it over for a few moments before nodding. "Very well, Altair. I shall have our spies search through the city for any slaves matching the description and will let you know the minute I find anything."

"Once again, you have my thanks." Altair gave the man a bow, something he rarely did to anyone other than Al Mualim. "I would also greatly appreciate it if you didn't inform Al Mualim of any of this. I'd much rather keep this private and he already has enough to worry about with the Templars."

"Very well. My lips shall remain sealed." The man drew a line across his lips for emphasis.

Altair gave him one last grateful nod before taking his leave. It would be a long ride back to Masyaf, even longer still to Jerusalem. The sooner he dealt with the Templar slaver, the sooner he could continue to fulfil his promise.

* * *

"You've done well, Altair. I am confident that this is but the first of many successes." Al Mualim said as he stared at the young man with pride in his eyes.

"Tamir spoke as if he knew you well." Altair replied simply. Though he couldn't help but feel lighter on his feet under his mentor's praise. "He implied my work had a larger meaning."

"Significance comes not from a single act but the context within which it is performed." The Assassin master advised sagely. "The consequence is born of it."

"Then is there more I need to know?" Altair asked.

The old man sighed. "Altair your greatest failure was born of knowing too much. If I choose to withhold information, it is only to ensure you do not make the same mistake a second time."

"I see." Altair replied with a bit of disappointment in his voice.

"No you don't," Al Mualim said sternly. He got up out of his chair and walked towards the pigeon cage that was on the bookcase near his desk. "And it will remain this way until you've learned your lesson. Still you have performed competently, and as such I restore a rank and will return a piece of your equipment." He gestured to the dagger that lay on the table. Altair took the weapon and strapped it to his back. "Go now, either to Acre or Jerusalem. There are men in both cities who require your attention. The Bureau leaders can tell you more on what needs to be done."

He opened the cage and stepped back as two pigeons flew through the open window overlooking the training grounds and into the air. Al Mualim said nothing more as he looked out the window with his arms crossed and back facing towards Altair. Taking the old man's silence as his que to leave, Altair turned and left the castle. With his destination set in his mind, he made his way out of the village, mounted his horse and rode out for Jerusalem. Hopefully he would be able to pick up some leads on Yukino's location, and he knew just the slaver who could provide him the answers.

However as he rode for the Holy City, he couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of anxiousness at the upcoming meeting with the one person who would no doubt be less than pleased to see him.

It was time to pay Malik a visit.

* * *

The city of Jerusalem was rife with temples, mosques, churches, and various other places of worship, therefore it attracted worshippers from all over the Holy Land to come and pay their prayers and respects to the Lord Almighty. Not only that, but it was also a major trading hub for both merchants and the soldiers of Saladin's army. Because it was a location of such great importance to the people of the Holy Land, Saladin had seen to it that the city was guarded fiercely at all times against the invading Crusaders. Therefor no person who looked even remotely European would be seen anywhere within the city's walls, lest they suffer a painful and agonizing death at the hands of the guards.

Which is why it was seen as the worst place possible for a young girl with white skin to be brought in. Especially as a slave. Altair would need to search the city thoroughly from top to bottom if wanted to have any hopes of finding her alive.

But first, he had an old friend to meet.

Knowing that the conversation he was about to have wasn't going to be the least bit pleasant, Altair steeled himself as he entered the Jerusalem Bureau. He hadn't seen Malik since the attack on Masyaf but he knew that the former Assassin's hatred of him hadn't lessened in the least. Ever since the death of his younger brother, Malik had taken it upon himself to separate himself as far away from the Order as possible. Since he could no longer perform the duties of a regular Assassin due to his injury, Al Mualim had been kind enough to give him the title of Rafiq for the Assassin Bureau in Jerusalem. Though there was no doubt in his mind that Malik saw this as an act of pity and took it as more of an insult than a mere kind gesture. He never liked being pitied by anyone and _certainly _didn't like being given things he didn't earn for himself.

The first thing he noticed about Malik was, of course, the empty sleeve that hung lazily on his left side. A painful reminder for both of the former friends of just how much he had lost and how Altair was responsible for all of it. The second thing he noticed was how pale and ragged the man looked. He obviously hadn't been outside in who knows how long and wasn't making much of an effort in taking care of himself. The bureau also looked a little worse for wear. Some books and scrolls lay discarded on the floor while the wall had a few chips in it. Several cobwebs could also be seen in the ceiling corners.

Deciding to make his presence known, Altair cleared his throat. "Safety and Peace, Malik." He said.

The former Assassin snapped his head up and immediately narrowed his eyes at Altair. "Your presence here deprives me of both," he growled as he snapped his book shut. "What do you want?"

Altair got straight to the point. "Al Mualim has asked-"

"Asked that you perform some menial task in an effort to redeem yourself." Malik interrupted while his glare's intensity increased. "So be out with it."

"I'm hunting a slaver by the name of Telal." Altair ignored the man's seething words. "Tell me what you can about him and his motives."

"It is your duty to locate and assassinate the man, Altair." Malik scoffed. "Not mine."

"You would do well to assist me, Malik." Altair said with some heat leaking into his words. "His death benefits the entire land."

"Oh?" Malik asked with a mocking tone. "Do you deny his death benefits you as well?"

"Such things do not concern you." Altair said with a growl of his own. His patience with Malik was quickly wearing thin.

"Your actions very much concern me!" Malik yelled as he gestured to the stump that was once his arm.

"Then don't help me. I'll find him myself." Fed up with the man's attitude, Altair turned to leave the bureau but an annoyed sigh from Malik stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait, wait." Malik said as he gestured Altair back with a wave of his hand. "It won't due having you stumble about the city like a blind man. Better you know where to begin your search."

Seeing that he was finally able to get somewhere, Altair leaned in with rapt attention. "I'm listening."

"I can think of three places," Malik placed his hand on his chin. "South of here in the markets that line the borders between the Muslim and Jewish districts, to the North near the Mosque of this district, and the Eastern front of Saint Anne's Church."

Altair nodded in satisfaction. "Is that everything?"

"It's enough to get you started." Malik replied with annoyance before turning around and picking his way through a bookshelf. "And more than you deserve," he muttered to himself.

Altair heard him but knew better than to provoke him any further. With one last look towards his former friend, the Assassin silently made his exit and began his pursuit of both the Templar and the slave girl.

* * *

It had been a long and difficult process but Altair's search had eventually lead him to a warehouse located to the North of the Bureau inside one of the poorer districts of the city. It was an ordinary looking building that didn't stick out in the least. That, along with the fact that the city guards generally tended to avoid these types of areas made it the perfect location for holding dozens of slaves. Ordinary citizens could walk right on by and never know that people were being held against their will just a few feet away. Unfortunately for Telal, his little business was about to be shut down permanently as Altair readied his blade to end the wretched slaver's life.

At least, that would've been the case had someone not suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him into a nearby alley.

Altair's instincts went into overdrive as his hidden blade sprung out of his wrist. Cocking his fist back, he was prepared to plunge it through into the throat of the one who dared to touch him-

"Hiya, Alty!"

-until he was met with a _very_ familiar mop of white hair connected to a grinning face. The person in his sights gave him a hearty wave along with a sly wink.

"_Sorano?!_" Altair exclaimed in shock and outrage. Gritting his teeth he walked up and proceeded to grab her by the shoulders before slamming her against the wall. "Why are you here?" he asked with a hard voice.

"To find my sister _obviously_," she said as if she were stating a simple fact. Seeing that his glare hadn't lessened, she rolled her eyes. "I was able to track her down to this specific warehouse and just so happened to see you heading in the same direction. So I figured, why don't we just go in together?"

"No," he told her sternly. "I told you that I would find a way to contact you as soon as I found her. You shouldn't even be here. _Leave_." The Assassin shoved her in the opposite direction and continued towards the warehouse but didn't make far before a hand tightly grasped his shoulder.

"Like hell!" Before he knew it, Altair found himself spun around and pressed up against the same wall. Sorano's blue eyes narrowed dangerously as she glared up into his hooded face. "You listen to me, Robin Hood; if you think I'm just going to stand out here and wait while my sister is being held like some caged animal then you've got another thing coming! I'm going in there whether you want me to or not! You can't possibly understand the-"

"No! It is _you_ who does not understand!" Reaching his wits end, Altair smacked the woman's hands off his shoulders and got right into her face. "The men who hold your sister are not like the bandits you so easily slaughtered before! They are trained and ruthless soldiers who will not hesitate to kill you where you stand should you get in their way! You may be skilled with a sword but even _you_ cannot hope to match a full squadron of soldiers on your own! And _I_ certainly cannot protect you and fight them all at once!" Altair raised his hand and poked her chest. "Believe me when I tell you that if you go in there: You. Will. Die."

She swatted his hand away and let out a harsh laugh. "You're sorely mistaken if you think I need protecting. Believe _me_ when I say that you haven't even begun to see what I can _really _do." Walking away from the stunned Assassin, she spoke up. "I'm going to get my sister back with or without your help. Makes no difference to me."

Feeling a vein about to pop, Altair let out an agitated sigh before quickly catching up to the woman and grabbing her arm. "If we're doing this then we do it _my _way," he told her. She raised an eyebrow at him. "We go in, find your sister if she is there, and then you _leave_. I still have to kill the man responsible for her kidnapping along with many others. So the moment we find her, you take her and _run_. Do I make myself clear?" his grip tightened on her arm as a warning.

Sticking her tongue out, she gave him a mock salute. "Aye aye, Captain."

He wasn't the least bit satisfied with her response but nevertheless he released her arm and the two made their way towards the warehouse. As they got closer, Altair could faintly see a door that was left slightly ajar. Pulling out his sword, he gestured for Sorano to move behind him before putting his hand on the door and slowly pushing it open. To Sorano's horror and Altair's grim expectations, they were immediately met with the sight of people being held in cages inside of a large and spacious room with the only source of light being an open window located near the ceiling. Seeing as the two new arrivals weren't guards, the captives immediately began crying and pleading with the duo to release them. Seeing a key nowhere in sight, Altair immediately began using the razor edge of his sword to swiftly cut the rusted locks off. Opening the cages, Altair ignored their sobbing gratitude and gestured for them to run, which none of them hesitated to do so.

"Yukino!" Sorano yelled as she searched through the cages for her sister. "Yukino! Are you here?!"

"_Sorano!_"

The feminine scream made them both freeze in place. Altair didn't have time to react before Sorano suddenly disappeared into the next room. "_Yukino!"_ She screeched.

"Sorano! Dammit!" he cursed as he followed after the distraught woman. He came into an even larger room with a cobblestone floor and a nearby ladder that lead up to the second floor. Looking around, he instantly spotted Sorano tightly embracing a younger girl whose hair was just as wait as hers though it was fairly shorter. Walking up to them, he saw that she was dressed in slave rags and was covered in a few bruises and cuts but otherwise looked relatively unharmed. The cage that was holding her looked to have been ripped open from the outside.

Altair said nothing as the sisters cried into each other's shoulders and held onto each other so tight that it looked as if no force in the world was capable of separating them. As heartwarming as it was to see Sorano finally reunited with her sister, he knew that now wasn't the time for a happy reunion. Unfortunately he never got the chance to give the sister their opportunity to escape as a huge metal gate sealed the doorway and blocked off their escape. Their situation only worsened from their when half a dozen guards came pouring into the second floor with their swords drawn.

A loud clap echoed throughout the warehouse as a man with slicked back hair and a bow strapped to his back came into view. A smug smile was on his face as he looked down at the trio from above.

"And to think that my brothers had such a hard time finding you when all it took was one girl to lure you in like a fish!"

Altair scowled up at the man. "So you have us surrounded. What now, slaver?"

"Do not call me that!" the Templar, Telal, snapped as he glared at the Assassin. "I only wished to help them! At least I did until you foolishly released them back into the cold and unforgiving streets!"

"You did no kindness in imprisoning them like this!" Altair couldn't believe the nonsense coming out of the man's mouth. Did he seriously think that he was helping people by locking them up like criminals?

"Imprisoning them?!" he asked incredulously. "I kept them safe! I was preparing them for the journey that lies ahead!"

"What journey?! It is a life of servitude!"

Telal let out a mocking laugh. "You know noth-ARGH!"

Altair didn't know what happened. One second Telal was laughing and then the next there was a sword deeply embedded into his chest. He could only stare as the man came toppling forward before falling and hitting the ground with a sickening _crack_.

"Sorano!" He heard Yukino shout and turned around only to see Sorano standing beside him with her hands clenched at her sides. There was a murderous expression on her face as she stared at the Templar's bleeding corpse. He also noted that the sword that had been strapped to her side was now missing.

He connected two and two together and stared at the older sister with open mouthed shock.

"Enjoy your journey to hell, fuckface!" Sorano screamed before raising her hands towards the guards on the second floor. "And the rest of you can go _burn _with him!" There was a shift in the warehouse's temperature and Altair was pretty sure he was hallucinating because in a single instant _her hands had ignited with pure fire._

He never got the chance to comprehend what he was seeing before the entire warehouse was engulfed in flames.

* * *

Malik groaned annoyance as he heard the padding of footsteps behind him.

"Well it's about ti-_WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALLAH HAPPENED TO YOU?!" _

The one armed man gaped with wide eyes as Altair, along with two young women with _white hair_ of all things made their way into the bureau. However what shocked Malik to his core was the state Altair was currently in. The man's white robes were almost completely singed and tainted with black soot. Burn marks littered some of his exposed skin while wisps of smoke came out of his hair, which was also slightly burnt.

Altair said nothing. Keeping a perfectly blank face, he guided the two sisters over to a nearby table before striding up to Malik and placing a scorched feather coated with blood on his desk. Malik could only stare at the man's back as he opened the door to a nearby bedroom before gently closing it behind him.

The resounding _'click' _may as well have been as loud as broken glass with how silent the room was.

Slowly rotating his gaze over towards the two women, Malik couldn't find the strength to form any words as they simply stared right back at him.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Malik could only sigh before slamming his head down on the table.

"Why do these things always happen to me?"

* * *

"_Layla Hassan?"_

"_What the hell?! Who are you?!"_

"_My name is William Miles."_

"_William Miles? As in the leader of the Assassins?"_

"_Not the 'leader' per se, but I do play a large role in keeping the Order alive."_

"_So what? You here to kill me?"_

"_No, actually. I'm here to do the exact opposite. I want you to join us."_

"_What?! Why the hell would I do that?!"_

"_Because as far as I'm concerned, Abstergo has no further use for you. That should've been made blatantly clear when they not only killed your friend but tried to kill you as well."_

"_And I should believe that you guys are any different? What's stopping you from killing me?"_

"_We're different because we don't kill people for being useless. Plus we're not the ones who are trying to take over the world. What they did to Deanna Geary? They've done the same to thousands of others and will continue to do so until there's no one else standing in their way. Unfortunately it doesn't stop there. There is a lot more going on than just the war between the Assassins and Templars. Things that you wouldn't even begin to believe."_

"_Really? Like what?"_

"_That's not something we can discuss now. I need an answer. Will you join us?"_

"_Fuck it. Fine, I'm in."_

"_Excellent. I have an extraction chopper arriving to pick us up in about an hour. We'll be heading to London." _

"_London? Why London?" _

"_We have a few more colleagues we need to pick up." _


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter XI: Desert Green Part 2

Bayek charged out of the house in a fit of anger.

By the Gods, why did Aya have to be so damn _stubborn_? All he wanted was to try and spend some quality time with his wife yet apparently her loyalty Cleopatra was far more important than their marriage. Sadly it wasn't just the intervention of Egypt's Queen. It seemed like every time he managed to get a sliver of alone time with Aya, someone or something had to jump in and take her away from him again. Was it really so much to ask that to want to stay together with the woman you love?

Bayek sighed as he sat himself against a palm tree that overlooked the nearby swamp.

Was it his fault? Had he been the one to push Aya away? Admittedly he knew that it probably _was_. He knew he never acted like the same loving husband he once was after their son was murdered. He practically spent most of the time in mourning and all but ignored his wife. Not to mention that he had also been busy hunting the ones responsible _while _still fulfilling his responsibilities as Siwa's protector. Son's death or not, he was still a Medjay until the day he died or otherwise. Though that didn't mean that he didn't want to try and reconnect with his wife.

Sighing, he picked up a rock and tossed it into the water. The small _'plop'_ that followed was the only source of noise around him other than the occasional chirp of a distant bird or the clicks of a nearby galloping horse. Other than the small doses of white noise, it was nearly silent.

"Trouble in paradise, Bayek?"

Which was why he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs when he suddenly heard a female voice _right beside him_. Jumping to his feet with his hidden blade at the ready, he swiveled to his right and was more than surprised to see the familiar figure of the mysterious green haired woman he had last seen many months ago. She was currently sitting up against the same tree with her arms wrapped around her legs and her head tilted to the side and resting against her knees. A small smile as on her lips as she stared up at him with amusement dancing in her green eyes. He also noticed with some dismay that she was still clad in the same revealing outfit she had been wearing last time.

"By the Gods, woman, where did _you_ come from?" he asked as he tried to calm his racing heart. He put his blade back in its sheathe and sat back down, though he made sure to put a good amount of distance between himself and her.

Her eyes followed his every move as her smile widened an inch. "I've been around," she replied vaguely. "And _you_ look like someone just gave you a bad case of the blue balls. Wanna talk about it?"

"No," he bit back as he grabbed another rock and threw it into the water with more force. Though her choice of words did confuse him. Why would someone give him blue colored balls?

"Really?" she asked skeptically as she scooted towards him. "No marriage troubles you wanna get off your chest?"

His eyes snapped to her as his mouth opened. "How did you-?" he cut himself off before he could finish. This woman already proved she could seemingly appear and disappear whenever she wanted. He _really _didn't want to know how she somehow knew about his troubles with Aya. "Never mind, it's nothing of importance," his eyes narrowed at her. "And if it was, it certainly isn't any of _your_ business."

"Fair enough," she nodded before she too grabbed a rock and tossed it into the water. An awkward yet strangely calm silence fell between the two as they continued throwing rocks. When there were no more to toss, they simply settled for staring off into the night sky.

It was times like these that reminded Bayek of the nights he would spend with Khemu; the two of them would sit in the desert sand and stare up into the stars. He remembered fondly how his son would constantly ask him stories about the various constellations even though Bayek had always repeated the exact same tales each and every time. Yet Khemu didn't seem to care how many times he was told the same story as he found each telling to be more invigorating than the last. A wistful smile fell onto his face as he remembered how his son would eagerly listen with rapt attention as he told him the legends of Ra, Anubis, and many other gods and goddesses as well as the various kings and queens of Egypt's past. Gods how much he missed his son.

He wasn't aware of the few tears that escaped his eyes until they dribbled onto his hand. Surprised at the sudden display of emotion, Bayek was about to wipe his eyes until his arm was grabbed. Looking over to the side, he saw that woman had seized his arm into her small hand and was looking at him with a somber gaze.

"It's not a sin to cry you know," her words were soft and her eyes were sad. Slowly she released his arm and he let it fall back to his side, and for the first time since his son died he sobbed. He did nothing to stop the tears as they continued to fall, nor did he do anything to stop the woman from wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders as his woes echoed into the night.

* * *

Bayek let out a curse as he swatted away another cobweb before viciously stomping on a skittering scarab beetle. As a cloud of dust blasted into the already foul air and reduced him into a coughing fit, he scarcely wondered if it was too late to turn back.

'_No,'_ he thought to himself. _'Returning would only be a waste of time. I'm already this far, best keep going.'_

With his mind made up, Bayek trekked on through the Pyramid's dark and narrow corridors; his lit torch being the only source of light as the fire's crackles reverberated through the structure's deep interior. In all honestly, he wasn't too sure what exactly convinced him to come down here in the first place. Maybe it was the seemingly innocent curiosity about Egypt's long forgotten past that plagued him or maybe it was the slightly greedy side of him that was desperate to make a few quick coins from some dusty old trinkets. While, as a Medjay, he would never _dream_ of stealing from any of the royal crypts, he supposed that it wouldn't hurt to take one or two trinkets. Plus he was a little short on coins at the moment so hopefully he would be able to find something that was of value. Not to mention that learning about the Kings, Queens, and Pharaohs who ruled long before his time was also quite rewarding.

After blindly navigating through the numerous hallways, breaking through walls, and furiously removing any annoying obstructions, Bayek had finally found himself inside of a spacious and ornate looking chamber that was line with sleek cobblestone. The room was obviously meant for someone of royal blood if the stacked piles of treasure and large golden sarcophagus was anything to go by. Protruding directly behind the sarcophagus was a long, thin stele that depicted assorted symbols and images used from times long since passed.

Walking up to the stele, Bayek lightly traced his fingers over the symbols. "Ancient writings from the Old Kingdom," he muttered as he studied the hieroglyphs in utter fascination.

"They don't look that old to me."

"BY THE GODS!" Bayek yelled as he spun around. The torch in his hand was thrown to the side in favor of a sword that Bayek brought out in defense of himself. However his shock soon transformed into anger as he once again spotted the slim figure of the green haired woman casually leaning against the nearby sarcophagus as if it were nothing more than a dusty wardrobe.

"How's it going Bayek?" she said as she lazily waved a hand in his direction.

"Will you stop _doing_ that?!" he yelled as he pointed his sword towards her.

"Doing what?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Appearing out of nowhere like some phantom and nearly scaring me to an early grave!" Sheathing his sword, he stomped up to her and grabbed her shoulders before roughly pushing her off the sarcophagus. "And show some more respect for the dead!"

"Well aren't we in a good mood?" Frowning, she rubbed her shoulders and crossed her arms under her chest. "You know, it's not really polite to manhandle a lady like that."

"It is also not _polite_ to lean yourself against someone's resting place as a mere table," he pointed to the sarcophagus. "And yet you were doing it all the same."

"Well _excuse me_ if I tire out easily. After all having a chest as big as mine is absolute murder on my back." Try as he might, Bayek couldn't find it within himself to look away as the woman grabbed her generously large breasts and gave them a firm squeeze. He was just thankful that it was dark enough for her to not notice his reddening face.

Catching his stare, a coy smirk made its way onto her lips as she slowly leaned in and gave her voluptuous assets another squeeze. "Though if you're a good boy I _might_ let you massage me. God knows it's been too long since I've had such _strong _and _nimble_ hands give me a rubdown." As if to add on to her attempts at such erotic teasing, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her barely concealed breasts into his chiseled chest. "Did I mention that said rubdown was given to me by a woman?" she whispered seductively into his ear as she began to slide her breasts up and down along his smooth skin.

'_Amun grant me strength,'_ Bayek thought as he desperately tried to ignore the effects this woman was having on his body. It was a futile attempt as he could already feel himself getting aroused, especially when he could faintly feel her nipples though the thin fabric of her clothing. With great reluctance he managed to push her off, eliciting a pout from her. "Listen, woman-"

"Brandish."

"What?" he asked her in confusion. Stepping back, she crossed her arms once again and sent him a pointed look.

"My name is Brandish, not _woman_."

Bayek blinked as the realization came to him. In the two times she had come to see him during the past few months, not once had she ever told him her name nor had he ever bothered asking. "Brandish," he repeated the name over and over again in his head. It certainly sounded as foreign as she looked, though it was still an odd name nonetheless.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she said as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. He was beginning to become much too tired for these childish games of hers. "Why are you here, Brandish? Better yet, why is it that you keep following me?"

"Curiosity I suppose," she shrugged her shoulders. "Or maybe it's because I'm simply bored and have nothing better to do. Not much excitement when you live in the middle of a barren desert."

He snorted in response. He had to give her that one. "I fear you will not find any entertainment down here. Not unless you have any interest in the dead." He gestured back to the sarcophagus.

She smiled. "No, I'm afraid I don't. Though I can't say the same about you. Especially when all sorts of trouble seem to attract their way to you."

"Not by choice," he added with a scowl. That was huge lie and they both knew it. Trouble never got a chance to find him because _he_ was the one who usually found it first.

"Because of the whole thing with the order wreaking havoc across Egypt, right?"

"Exactly," her response surprised him. Not that many people knew about the Order's existence. But then again, considering just who he was talking to it wasn't all _that_ surprising. "You seem to know a lot about what's happening around Egypt." He noted with some suspicion.

"What can I say? I like to travel when I'm not following you around." She gave him a cheeky wink.

"…Right," he stared at her with uncertainty. It was still bizarre to know that she had been keeping track of his movements, if not a little creepy. He didn't know if he should be weary of her for following him or flattered that she found him interesting enough to do so. With his life filled with so much violence and death, any sane person would want to stay as far away from him as possible. That meant she was either crazy or simply didn't care. Judging from that bared expression she almost always kept on her face, Bayek assumed it was the latter.

Speaking of which, there was still one thing about her that bothered him. "How are you able to just…_'appear'_ out of thin air like you do?"

"Magic," she replied mysterious. He gave her a deadpanned look.

"I'm serious," his voice grew hard. "Why is it that I'm never able to see you until you make yourself known?"

"Well I'm serious too. Everything I do is because of my magic." Bayek's look didn't change. "Really? You believe in Gods with the heads of eagles and dogs but magic is where you draw the line?"

"I assume you have proof of such things?" he asked skeptically as he crossed his arms.

He was met with a blank stare and she let out a sigh before picking up a coin off the ground and holding it out to Bayek. He raised an eyebrow at her in confusion. Thinking that she wanted him to take it, he was about to do just that until the coin suddenly grew to the size of a plate.

If she wasn't so good at controlling her emotions she would've fallen over with laughter at the slack-jawed expression on his face.

"W-What…I…H-How?" he stammered as he slowly grabbed the now large in both of his hands and carefully inspected it from front to back. Despite its severe difference in size, it still looked and felt the same as any normal coin. Before he knew it the coin was instantly shrunk back down to its normal size.

He snapped his eyes to her, silently demanding an explanation. "My magic allows me to alter the mass of any object of my choosing. I can make anything shrink or grow to any size at will."

"_Any _object?" he asked amazed. That certainly did sound like a handy thing to have. With something like that in his arsenal he could simply shrink his enemies down to the size of beetles and stomp on them without the need of any swordplay. It sounded almost too good to be true.

"That's right," she said with a mischievous smirk as her eyes roamed over his body. "_Anything_. Even the body parts of a human being."

He _really_ didn't like the way her eyes traveled beneath his belt nor did he particularly enjoy the tingling sensation he suddenly felt in a _very_ specific place.

Dread filled Bayek as he placed his shaking hands on his trousers and slowly pulled them open before carefully looking down.

"Oh my," she exclaimed with wide eyes as she put a hand to her mouth. "Is that a sword in your pocket or are you just really happy to see me?"

The sound of an _actual_ sword unsheathing reverberated around the room.

"I will give you a five second head start. Starting _now_."

Brandish could no longer contain her laughter as she ran through the entire Pyramid with an enraged Assassin hot on her heels.

* * *

As expected, she disappeared as soon as he exited the Pyramid's catacombs. Though at least she had the decency to return his – ahem _sword_ – back to its original size. Bayek swore he was going to figure out some way to get her back for that little trick.

But her disappearance was not what caught his attention as soon as the mid-day sun greeted him. Rather it was the small fiery streak of a falling meteorite that plummeted into the earth a good distance away from the Pyramids. Quickly whistling for his camel, he mounted the animal and swiftly rose out towards the impact site.

A few miles later he arrived just in time to see a bright yellow rock burning in the middle of a crater next to some kind of stone temple. Dismounting his camel Bayek carefully crept up to the sizzling rock while making sure to keep a good distance away to keep himself from being burned.

"A message from the Gods?" he asked in amazement as he stared at the large chunk of rock. Looking at it closely he could see that its bright golden glow was lightly pulsating as if it contained some kind of mysterious power. Looking towards the temple, he noticed that a sizeable had been blasted into the wall. Walking around the meteorite, he squeezed his body through the small gap which ended up leading him into a room with the image of what appeared to be etched into the wall. The image displayed ten pillars with the sun shining behind one that was placed directly in front of the others, causing a shadow to be casted on only three of the nine pillars. Judging from the positioning of the shadows, Bayek guessed that something was supposed to happen with those specific pillars at a certain time of day. Located at the bottom of the image were the letters 'XII.' The roman numerals for the number twelve. Though what was concerning was the fact that the numerals were glowing the same shade of yellow as the meteorite outside.

"Is this a sign from Ra?" Bayek asked himself as he traced his hand along the image. Making sure to burn the images into his mind, Bayek retreated back outside where he was able to spot the exact pillars standing directly across from the stone temple. Walking over, he saw that he was just in time as the sun placed itself directly behind the leading pillar, causing its shadows to split into three different sections and hit the same three pillars that had been shown on the temple's image. He almost jumped back as the surfaces of the pillars suddenly slid open, revealing three bright yellow crystals within their interiors.

"What am I supposed to do?" Bayek asked as he looked at the three crystals in agitation. _'Three pillars and three crystals that only reveal themselves at a certain time of day.'_ His anxiety only grew as he watched the shadows slowly move as time went on. _'I don't have much longer. I need to solve this puzzle fast. But how?"_ As he tried to work through the scenario in his mind, a certain number popped into his head. _'The roman numerals said twelve. Am I supposed to do something twelve times?' _An idea formed in his mind as he looked to each of the crystals. _'Could it be?'_

Deciding to test his theory, Bayek pulled out his bow and placed on arrow on the string. Taking aim he fired the arrow at the middle crystal and smiled when it flashed as soon as the arrow hit its surface.

'_I think I just found my answer.'_ Readying another arrow, Bayek repeated the same process with the last two crystals and nearly jumped as the ground started to shake before beams of pure yellow light shot out of the pillars and into the sky.

"Light shining up to the sky? By the Gods, what have I done?" Bayek asked himself as he stared into the sky in disbelief. Fastening his bow onto his back, he looked back towards the temple. "I should head back to the tomb. Maybe something has happened." With that in mind, Bayek ran back to the temple and reentered the room just in time to see the wall split in two, revealing a lit hallway that lead further into the temple.

Bayek slowly trekked onward and soon found himself in the middle of a wide open chamber with a set of stairs that led up to golden barrier made completely out of light. The walls were see-through which allowed him to see a floating figure encased in black shadows, though he wasn't able to see much else due to the constant shimmering of the shadows.

"O you door-keepers who guard your portals, who swallow souls and who gulp down the corpses of the dead," Bayek chanted quietly to himself as he approached the barrier. "What a journey I have made, the things I have seen. I am but one of you."

Lifting his hand he touched the barrier which caused the entire chamber to start shaking and cracks to form along the barrier's surface. Sensing that something was about to happen Bayek quickly stepped away and ran down the stairs to hide behind one of the nearby statues. Before he knew it the entire barrier shattered, shooting out hundreds of shards of glass before they disappeared into thin air.

A pair of soft footsteps echoed into the chamber and Bayek peeked around the statue to see a woman descending down the stone steps. She was covered in some kind of black body suit with yellow markings etched all over it. What visible skin he could see was pale white from her neck to the top of her nose. Her eyes shone with a bright golden hue while her long hair – which somehow managed to fly _upward_ – was almost entirely black with an outline of orange, giving it the appearance of a roaring flame.

The woman stopped at the bottom of the steps and turned her glowing eyes in his direction. Seeing as how he had already been spotted, Bayek slowly emerged from behind the statue with his arms raised in the air. "Peace, Spirit," he told the woman. "I mean you no harm."

She said nothing, not even registering that she heard him at all. Instead she set her golden eyes over his shoulders and spoke a single word. _**"Brandish **__**μ." **_She said in an ethereal voice.

Hearing the familiar name, Bayek snapped his head back and did indeed see Brandish standing next to the entrance of the chamber. Her posture was rigid and her hands shook at her sides as she stared at the other woman with wide eyes. _"Mari?"_ she asked as her lips began to tremble.

Her reaction confused and worried Bayek. Did she somehow know this spirit? She had called it 'Mari.' Was that its name?

"_**The one you knew as Dimaria is gone." **_The spirit said. _**"I am all that remains."**_

"But that's impossible!" Brandish shouted. "You're her Take-Over form! If she's dead than you should be gone too!"

"_**I have existed for over a millennia." **_The spirit explained._** "Dimaria was of my progeny and therefore a suitable host for my soul. We were bonded together at the time of her birth but we were never truly a single being. The moment she died was when my soul was finally released."**_

"If you were released then how are you here?" Brandish demanded. "How is it that you and I came into this world?"

Her question caught Bayek off guard. What did she mean by _this_ world?

"_**I am…unsure." **_Despite having no expression on her face, the spirit somehow managed to look confused. She stared up into the stone ceiling as if she were looking through it and into the sky. _**"However what I do know is that you are not the only one to arrive in this world."**_

"W-What?" Now it was Brandish's turn to get caught off guard as she stared at the spirit aghast. "What do you mean I'm not the only one?! The other Spriggan are here as well?!"

"_**No. Not those of the Spriggan 12,"**_ The spirit shook her head. _**"But there are those from our world who have also managed to find themselves trapped here."**_

"Well, where are they?!" Brandish asked excitedly. Her hands were clasped together and her eyes were practically glowing. Bayek had never seen her this happy before.

"_**Not here in this land," **_The spirit said. Seeing the confused look on Brandish's face, the spirit elaborated. _**"They have been scattered throughout Time itself." **_

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Brandish asked desperately as she could slowly feel her hope slip away.

"_**It means that each of them have been placed throughout different periods of this world's timeline. The closest one located to this current time was over three centuries ago. The next two will not appear for another millennia." **_

"Brandish!" Bayek shouted as the green haired woman suddenly fell to her knees. Quickly rushing over to her, he wrapped his arms around her smaller frame as she buried her head into her hands. Her body shook with quiet sobs and Bayek couldn't stop himself from glaring at the spirit. He may not have understood what it was they were talking about but what he did know was that Brandish needed all the support she could get right now.

Her crying didn't last much longer before she shoved Bayek off of her and stomped up to the spirit with fury in her eyes. "Who else was sent here?" she asked through gritted teeth. _"Why _were they sent here?"

"_**To aide those like him,"**_ She gestured back towards Bayek. _**"As for who was sent here; I only know of one. You know her as Lucy Heartfilia."**_

The name caused Brandish to take a step back in shock. "Lucy was sent here?" She hadn't seen the girl since…

She shook her head. "You said they were sent here to help others like Bayek. Do you mean people like the Medjay?"

"_**Similar, yes, but with different goals. A different Creed." **_

"Who are these people you speak of, Spirit?" Bayek asked as he stood beside Brandish.

"_**They are known as the Assassins."**_

"Assassins?" Bayek asked. "How is it that-"

He wasn't able to get another word out as the spirit's entire body shimmered before it started to slowly dissipate into tiny particles of light, starting with its legs.

"_**My time here grows short." **_Even though it was on the verge of disappearing, the spirit's voice remained calm. _**"I have very little Ethernano left to sustain myself in this world. Therefore I can only do one last thing." **_She looked towards Bayek. _**"Bayek of Siwa, hold out your hands."**_

Confused as to how she knew his name, Bayek nevertheless complied and did as she asked. Lifting one of her arms, she pointed towards the empty space between his hands and a bright flash of light momentarily blinded him before he felt a sudden weight in his arms. As the light dimmed, he heard Brandish let out a gasp as he looked down and saw his hands were now holding a strange looking sword with a blade that was almost as long as his bow. The weapon had gold metallic plating with a curved hilt that connected to circular center. The blade itself was smooth on one end and serrated on the other, giving it both an exquisite and deadly appearance.

"_**That blade is imbued with what little magical power I can offer. It has seen many battles and has slain hundreds of enemies. It is what gave its last wielder the title 'Warrior Queen.'" **_Bayek was unnerved with how intently the spirit was staring into his eyes._** "You may very well be its last wielder; take care and use it well and it shall serve you just the same." **_

Bayek stepped back and gave the sword a few test swings. It was surprisingly light for how long it was yet at the same time it was also quite sturdy. He could also feel the hidden power the blade contained as it surged through the hilt and into his body. Simply holding it made Bayek feel as though he could take on the Gods themselves.

Sheathing the blade on his back, Bayek turned to the spirit and gave her a respectful bow. "I thank you greatly for this humble gift, Great Spirit."

Said spirit simply nodded to him before turning back to Brandish. _**'This one has an important future ahead of him.' **_Brandish almost jumped when the woman's voice echoed inside her head._** 'He will face many trials and is essential to the creation of the Brotherhood of Assassins. However he cannot do it all alone. It would be wise for you to remain by his side and aide him in any way you can. Just as the others will do so in the far future.'**_

Brandish frowned but eventually gave the woman a stiff nod. _'I will.'_

The woman nodded back before addressing the two. _**"My time is upon me, therefore I must depart from this world." **_Her entire body began to glow brighter. _**"Bayek of Siwa; your journey will be rife with death and destruction. Blood with continue to stain your blade and your heart with be struck with grief. For this, I personally offer you my best wishes as well as my favor. Have faith and you will be sure to prosper and reunite with your loved ones in an everlasting eternity." **_

Touched by the spirit's words, Bayek gave her another bow before she once again turned to address Brandish. _**"Brandish**_ _**μ, though you may not have reunited with those of your world, know that you are never alone. So long as you keep those you care about close to your heart, they will never leave your side."**_

This time Brandish didn't bother trying to stop the tears as they flowed down her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she bent her head down and put a hand over her mouth to try and stop the sobs that threatened to break through. She was barely aware of Bayek putting a comforting arm around her shoudlers.

"_**One more thing,"**_ The woman said, gaining the duo's attention. _**"Dimaria says she's sorry."**_

After that her body glowed with an even brighter intensity before it disappeared completely. The spirit's body was nowhere to be found.

Besides the quiet sobs emanating from Brandish and the crackling of the nearby torches, the entire chamber remained quiet.

"That woman the spirit mentioned: Dimaria," Bayek said as he gestured to the sword strapped to his back. "This blade belonged to her, didn't it?"

"Yes," Brandish replied as she wiped away her tears. "She was the most skilled swordswoman back in our homeland. Nobody could ever hold a candle to her. It's how she earned the title 'Warrior Queen.'"

"She must have been a truly powerful woman."

"Yeah," Brandish laughed as she leaned against his chest. "She was."

"And the spirit?" Bayek asked as he gestured to where the mysterious woman once stood. "Who was she?"

"Her name is Cronos. She was also the reason why Dimaria became so powerful. Since she was bonded to Mari at birth it allowed her to gain incredible magical power. One of her abilities was the power to freeze time."

Freeze time?! By the Gods, was there truly no limit to what these people's magic could do?!

Giggling at his gob-smacked expression, Brandish reached up and gave the Medjay a soft kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Bayek, for being here."

He gave her a warm smile. "You are most welcome."

Giving her a tight, one-armed hug – one that she eagerly returned – he let her go before grabbing her hand. "Come," he said with a smirk as they made their way back outside. "I am going to take you somewhere special."

"Oh?" she asked with a saucy smirk. "You planning on taking me on a romantic getaway?"

"No, no!" he laughed as he shook his head. "But it is somewhere I hope you will enjoy."

"I'm sure I will if you speak so highly of it." Gripping his hand tightly in hers, she leaned her head into his shoulder. "So where are we going?"

Bayek's smile was wide as he told her. "To the place where I was born. My home village of Siwa."

* * *

"_What. The. Actual. Fuck."_

"_Layla? What is it?"_

"_Dee, you are NOT going to believe what I just saw!"_

"_Let me guess, it was a woman with blue hair this time?"_

"_What? No! There was this thing with other worlds and freezing time and magic swords and-"_

"_Alright Layla, enough! It's obvious that you've been spending too much time in the Animus so I'm officially ordering a mandatory rest period until you get your shit together!"_

"_What?! But Dee-"_

"_The only 'but' there should be is your getting out of the Animus! Now move it, missy!"_

"_Damnit, Dee! Don't treat me luck a child!"_

"_Then don't act like one but making up some imaginary stories! Move it!"_

"_Argh!" _


End file.
